Finding the Best Birthday Gift
by asdf123150
Summary: For his mom's birthday, Oliver has the best idea ever - find his dad and bring him as a gift. Problem is, no one will tell him about his dad. With the help of his friends, Esther and Swaine, he'll have to find Lucien in time for his mom's birthday. T for safety, too much EstherxSwaine for my taste.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, yay, Ni No Kuni fanfic! I'm uploading it all in one go because for once, instead of writing it chapter by chapter, I wrote it all in one go. In one document. Which made uploading a pain.

Yeeaaaah. But, hey, this is my second finished fanfic every! Yahoo!

Anyhow, explaining the tidbit in the summary: Halfway through the story, my inner shipper took over and made the story waaaaaay too EstherxSwaine-centric. I managed to change it back, but...

Anyhoo, enjoy!

* * *

"Good night, Oliver." The room dimmed as she flicked the lights off. "Sleep tight."

"Mom… Can you tell me a story?"

Oliver watched as his mother paused in his bedroom doorway. One of her hands was on the door knob, and he waited to see if she'd open the door and leave.

She didn't.

"Of course, Oliver." His mother laughed and sat on the side of his bed. "Which story would you like to hear, sweetie?"

"The story about you and Lucien."

She smiled, just a little sadly. Then she began to speak.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl named Alicia. She had a very good friend whose name was Lucien."

Oliver pulled the covers up and closed his eyes, listening to the soft sound of his mother's voice.

"Alicia and Lucien liked each other very much, ever since they were little. They'd always play together, and their parents were happy to see them play. Alicia's parents said that she her smile was always brightest when she was playing with him."

Oliver could already begin to feel himself fall asleep.

"When they grew up, Lucien asked Alicia if she would become his extra-special best friend, and of course, she agreed." She had the faintest smile in her voice as she said, "Alicia was very, _very_ happy to become best friends with Lucien. For her, it was like a dream come true.

"They fell in love, and a few years after they fell in love, they had a beautiful little boy named Oliver. Oliver was a very cute little boy, and both Lucien and Alicia loved him very, very much."

"What… What happened to Lucien?" Oliver mumbled. He felt his mother's cool hand brush some hair off his face.

"Lucien… Lucien had to go far, far away. There were evil monsters that wanted to take over the world and do horrible things to Alicia and Oliver, so they had to move far, far away from Lucien, and they weren't allowed to see him until he beat the monsters. But…" Her voice cracked. "If… If Lucien ever beat the monsters… Lucien promised that if he ever beat the monsters, he'd come running back to Alicia as soon as possible…because…he said he loved her. Very, very much. And I'm sure he loved his little boy, Oliver, very much, too."

She kissed him on the forehead. "Good night, sweetie. Sleep tight."

As she cracked open the door to walk out, Oliver mumbled, "Is…Lucien…done fighting the monsters yet?"

"I hope so, sweetie," she whispered. "I... Alicia really hopes so."

(-.-)Zzzzz

"Have a good time at school, sweetie!"

"I will, Mom!" Oliver shouted over his shoulder as he put on his backpack and ran out the door. At the end of his driveway, a girl with a blonde braid, tied high on her head, waited.

"Hello, Oliver!"

"Hey, Esther!" He ran down to join her, and they began to walk to school together.

"How's your mother? Is she all right?"

Oliver nodded vigorously. "Yeah, she's fine. The doctors said it was just some mild pneumonia, and she should be fine if she stays warm."

Esther smiled. "I can't help but be in awe of your mother – she managed to catch a cold in the middle of September! Not that it's a good thing or anything," she added quickly. "It's just… How many people catch colds? In _September?_"

"Not a lot, I guess," Oliver said. "So, how's grade six?"

Esther grinned. "Nothing to worry about, Oliver! Honestly, you're still in grade three – you shouldn't be worrying!"

"Yeah, I guess you're right… How's Rashaad doing?"

"You mean Father?" She pouted. "Well, he refuses to come over to any of your meetings until Kublai apologizes to him. Honestly, he's such a baby! He won't even let me come over, and your mother always buys the best bananas!"

"I'll help you talk to your father. I'm sure we'll be able to convince him somehow."

Esther nodded. "Thanks, Oliver! That would be a great help."

"Okay. I'll go to your place after school!"

"See you, Oliver!" Esther called as she ran to the farther end of the school, where the sixth-graders lined up. Oliver waved goodbye to her as he stood in the grade-two section. When she turned the corner and vanished, he sighed.

Time for another day of school.

(^o^) (^o^)\

"So, who has a story to share with the class?"

The teacher selected a boy in the back, someone Oliver didn't know, who went to the front of the class and began to read out of a journal.

"Yesterday, I went to the zoo with my parents. My mother bought us all ice cream, and I tripped and accidentally smeared some all over her purse. She grounded me for a week."

There was a collective ripple of laughter, and even Oliver smiled. _His_ mom would never do that – she'd just buy him another cone.

"Then, my dad took me on an elephant ride. The elephant we took was lazy, and it stopped halfway through and refused to move. We were stuck there for ten minutes before the trainer could convince it to go back."

Oliver's smile faded.

Where was his father, Lucien? Alicia had told him enough stories about his father to last his entire childhood, but it wasn't the same as actually having one. Wasn't his mom lonely, too? Surely she missed him – she always sounded so sad when she told him stories about Lucien.

An odd idea popped into Oliver's head: What if, for his mother's birthday – it wasn't coming anytime soon, but time flies, and he knew that July would be there before he even knew it – he could bring Lucien back? It would be the best birthday gift ever – she'd be absolutely delighted!

_Okay,_ he decided. _I'm going to find Lucien and convince him to meet my mom on her birthday!_

How he was going to do that, though, was an entirely different matter.

(o.o)*

"I'll wait here," Esther called as Oliver dashed up the driveway. "Hurry, Oliver!"

Oliver rushed into his house and threw his bag onto the table. "Hey, Mom!" he yelled up the stairs. "Can I go over to Esther's house?"

"Of course you can, sweetie," she replied. Oliver could hear the faint clacking of keys, and guessed she was working on an article on her computer. "Be a dear and say hello to Rashaad for me, would you?"

"Okay, Mom," he called back as he ran back out. "She said yes!" he yelled to Esther.

Esther clapped her hands in delight. "That's perfect! Now, Oliver, didn't you say you wanted to ask me something?"

"Uh…yeah." He looked down nervously. In his head, it seemed like such an idea. Out loud? Not so much. "Um… I've decided that, for my mom's birthday, I'm going to find Lucien and get them to meet each other."

"Lucien?"

Oliver felt like face-palming (it was a strange new concept that the older kids had introduced to the school; basically, whenever you were dumbfounded by someone's or something's stupidity, you kind of let your face fall into your hand). "Lucien's my dad. My mom told me a bunch of stories about him, and since she really misses him, I thought that, if I could find him for her, she'd be really happy."

Esther stopped and gaped at him. "Wait – you mean your father's not… dead?"

Oliver blinked. "No, he's not – I'm pretty sure he's not, anyway. What makes you say that?"

"It's just…" She sighed and started walking again. "Oh, never mind. I think it's a great idea, Oliver! I can help, right?"

"Of course you can! That's what I was going to ask."

Esther beamed. "Oh, that's wonderful! That's so romantic!"

Oliver forced down a groan. Esther was in her fairy-princess mode again.

"Your father had to leave due to various undetermined reasons, although it broke his heart to do so, and with the help of her son and her foster brother's daughter, your mother will be reunited with your father! That's so sweet, Oliver! Of course, it'll work brilliantly! After all, true love triumphs against all odds!" Her smile wavered. "Well… Most of the time, it does, anyways."

Oliver knew exactly what she was thinking about. Esther's mother, who'd seemed to be madly in love with her father, Rashaad, had left just a few months after Esther's birth. Nobody knew why, but it had left Rashaad heartbroken. It might've even been why Esther was so obsessed with romantic stories.

"Don't worry, Esther." Oliver awkwardly patted her on the back, the only reassuring gesture he could think of. "I'm sure your mother had her reasons. She'll definitely be back, probably before you even know it."

Esther gave him a wavering smile. "Thanks, Oliver. You have no idea what that means to me."

Oliver smiled back. Esther took a deep breath and wiped away the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Well!" She gave him a bright, energetic grin. "Let's see what you can do about my chicken of a father, shall we?"

/(^o^) (-.-')

"I'm not going back until that wannabe pirate Kublai apologizes to me," Rashaad grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

Esther stomped on Oliver's foot. The poor kid nearly choked on his muffin.

"Oliver!" she hissed. "_Say_ something!"

He quickly swallowed. "But, Mr. Rashaad, sir, didn't you insult Khulan first?"

"No! I…" Rashaad paused. "Okay, maybe I did. Even so, that doesn't give him the right to punch me."

Esther slapped her hands down on the table and glared at her father. "Father! He's probably forgotten all about the incident by now! Just go back already! I'm sure that Alicia and Marcassin and the others miss you – don't they, Oliver?" She turned and shot Oliver a do-as-I-say-or-you'll-regret-it look.

He gulped. "O-Of course. My mom's really sad that you haven't been able to come lately."

Rashaad grumbled a bit longer under his breath. Finally, he sighed. "All right. I suppose I could just sweep this incident under the carpet and go back. But!" he added, right as Esther jumped up to give him a hug. "If he ever insults me like that again, I won't go back without an apology on his part."

"Of course, Father!" Esther wrapped her arms around her father's broad shoulders and gave him a hug. "So, Father, Oliver had the best idea ever for his mother's birthday. He wants to-"

"Make my mom a scrapbook with a bunch of pictures of the two of us together!" Oliver cut in. Esther gave him a quizzical look, but played along.

"Yes, Oliver wants to make a marvelous scrapbook of pictures of his mother and him together. Could you look through our photo albums and look for photos he could use?"

"Of course, Oliver." Rashaad got up. "How many pictures do you need?"

"Uh…" Oliver stammered, "J-Just a couple would be good, thanks."

As Rashaad left the room, presumably in search of photo albums, Esther hurried back to Oliver's side. "What was that for, Oliver?" she whispered. "Don't we need more information on your father in order to find him?"

"But I want to do it on my own!" he whispered back. "Otherwise, it wouldn't be as special!"

Esther sat and pondered it for a minute. "I guess you're right," she finally said. "Still, it'll be a lot harder to find this Lucien man without any help from any of the Four Wise Men."

"Shh! He's coming back!"

Rashaad walked into the kitchen, arms piled high with albums.

"There, that should do it," he grunted as he dropped them all onto the dining table with a resonating crash. Oliver and Esther had to grab their silverware to keep it from falling onto the ground. Rashaad dusted the cover of the top one, filling the room with a dank, musky smell. "It's been a while since I've looked at these. I reckon some of them are older than you, young Oliver!"

"They _look_ old, too." Esther coughed and covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve. "Honestly, Father – when was the last time you took those out of the cabinet?"

He ignored her and grabbed the album off the top of the pile, then sat down and opened it up. He smiled fondly as he looked at the pictures. "Ah, these bring back memories. I remember this one." He pointed at a picture of two men and two women. "That's me, Khulan, Alicia, and Marcassin's father. Marcassin was just a little boy back then." His voice sobered a little as he added, "Gascon was still with us back then, too."

He stared down at the photo contemplatively. Esther and Oliver fidgeted, unsure of whether it would be appropriate to interrupt his thoughts. Eventually, he looked back up and sighed. "That photo was taken just a while after we began calling ourselves the Four Wise Men."

"Why _men_, Father?" Esther cut in. "None of you ever really told us. Why 'men,' and not 'women' or 'humans' or 'people'?"

Rashaad roared with laughter. "There's my little girl! Always asking questions, nosing around into business that's not yours."

He patted her fondly on the head, despite her many protests, and succeeded in nearly squashing her braid flat. Oliver watched then with a slight smile.

If Lucien had stayed with them, would he have done the same?

"Well, 'men' just sounded good, I suppose," Rashaad explained. "Besides, all kings have wise men, and we were each clever enough to serve a king!"

"Tell me the story again, Father!" Esther stared up at her father with puppy-dog eyes. "Oh, do tell the story again!"

He grinned. "Well, I was a master chef. Still am, of course," he added, puffing up his chest proudly. "Best chef in all of North America!"

Esther jumped up impatiently. "But what about the others? Father, keep telling the story!"

"You're so impatient, Esther," Oliver said. "You should sit down. He'll get around to continuing the story soon."

Rashaad cleared his throat as Esther retook her seat. "Anyways… I was one of the top chefs at my college. Khulan had a way with people and animals that made you suspect she could read their minds. She was planning on becoming either a pediatrician or a veterinarian – in the end, she settled for pediatrician, I think. Is that right?"

Oliver nodded. "Yep. Khulan's our family doctor, and my mom says she's also getting a degree in psychology now."

Rashaad grinned. "That's our Khulan! So, I was the cook, Khulan was the people-person, Alicia was the top of _her_ school in music composition and writing, and Hamelin – may he rest in peace," Rashaad added, with a tinge of sorrow in his voice, "was a dreamer. He could imagine the strangest machines, build them, and make them do the most magical things. I remember one of them looked like an innocent mechanical pig – but if you tossed it up into the air, it would morph into an armed soldier, and if you tossed it up again, it would turn into a tank. We buried all his models with him when he died."

They all sat silently for a minute, thinking of the deceased Hamelin.

After a minute or so of silence, Rashaad said, "Well, by then, he'd already had two sons to carry on his legacy – Marcassin, whom we all know-"

"He replaced his father as a Wise Man, didn't he?" Oliver asked. Rashaad nodded.

"Indeed, he did. And, of course, Gascon, although he-"

"He's so handsome!" Esther squealed. "Marcassin showed me a picture of his brother once, from before he ran away! He left when he was – um, fourteen or so?" She glanced over at her father for confirmation. "So he was twelve-ish in the picture. He looks like a prince!"

"He gets that from his father," Rashaad quickly cut in, before Esther could rant any longer. "Marcassin gets his looks from his also-deceased mother, Emprene. That was also about when I met your mother, Alice."

Esther's smile froze on her face. Oliver noticed and patted her hand gently. Rashaad didn't.

"She sure was a beauty," he said wistfully, staring into the distance. "Pity she had to leave us so soon."

Esther looked like she was on the verge of fainting. Oliver quickly said, "S-So, is that also about when Kublai and Lucien came into the picture?"

"Kublai had been with us _long_ before then. Khulan met him when she first graduated high school. Lucien, on the other hand-"

Rashaad froze mid-sentence. Oliver looked around, concerned. Father and daughter were both frozen, motionless, although clearly for different reasons: Esther's face was pale and bloodless, whereas Rashaad's was reddening more and more with every passing sentence.

"Where did you hear that name?" Rashaad whispered. Oliver cringed when he saw a vein pulse in Rashaad's forehead. "_Who told you about Lucien?_"

"M-My mom did," he stuttered. "She tells me all these stories about him. He's my dad, isn't he?"

Rashaad settled back in his chair. His face was beginning to return to its normal hue. Esther had already gone back to normal, surprised into excitement by her father's strange reaction. "Lucien…" Rashaad squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger. "Never mention Lucien's name again. Your mother left him of her own free will, for good reason. It's a good thing she took you with her."

Esther begged and pleaded and tried to cajole an explanation out of her father, but for the rest of Oliver's visit, every time Lucien's name was brought up, Rashaad's lips thinned into a tight, angry line.

* * *

**A/N:** I just rewatched Sharkboy and Lavagirl and, apparently, in the US, school starts in August. I've been trying to make this as location-unspecific as possible (you know what I mean, right?) but I don't know if it's just Texas or all of USA, so I'm keeping it like this. Plus, it would kinda mess up my whole timeline.

And I like using emoticons for paragraph separators, so I'll just keep doing that.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sorry that I couldn't help this time," Esther said as Oliver got ready to go home. "How about we try again during the next meeting?"

"Sure," Oliver replied. "Neato! I bet Khulan knows a bunch about him."

"See you tomorrow!"

"See ya!"

( ^o^)- -(^o^)\

"Hey, Mom, I'm home!" Oliver called, locking the door behind him.

"Hello, Sweetie! Are you hungry?"

"No, Rashaad and Esther gave me some dinner." He rounded the corner into the kitchen, where his mother was covering a bowl of spaghetti with plastic wrap.

Alicia looked up and smiled at him. "I'll just warm this up tomorrow for you to take as lunch. Is that all right with you?"

"Of course!" Oliver sat down and watched as his mother ripped the wrap in one quick motion, then smoothed the edges down the sides of the porcelain bowl, sealing it in place. As she carried it over to the fridge, he found himself asking, "Hey, Mom, how come Lucien left?"

There was a loud shatter, and Oliver jumped when he felt a few sharp pieces of porcelain hit his – fortunately slippered – foot. Alicia quickly knelt down and began to gather the largest pieces of porcelain in the plastic wrap. She got up and mindlessly walked over to the garbage bin and dumped it all in. When she turned to face Oliver again, her face was pale and bloodless.

"What makes you say that, honey?"

Oliver watched, holding the tablecloth in tightly clenched fists, as his mother grabbed the broom and began to robotically sweep up the smaller shards. "I… I was just wondering…"

She picked up the dustpan and snapped the smaller brush out of it, and, still moving stiffly, swept the pile of shards into the dustpan. She stood up and gave Oliver a tight smile.

"No need to worry, sweetie. I… It was me who left."

"But… Why?"

She sloppily dumped the shards into the bin, then had to bend down again to sweep up the bits that hadn't fallen into the bin. "Well… We had a fight."

Oliver waited, but that seemed to be all the information his mother was willing to volunteer. She pushed him up the stairs, and when she came into his room to tuck him into bed, her kiss had none of its normal warmth. Oliver lay in the darkness of the room after she left, wondering:

Why did everyone seem to hate his father?

(;.;)

"That's strange," Esther said when he told her the story the next morning. "Your father can't be all that bad, can he?"

"I don't know," Oliver said miserably, looking down at his shoes. "What if he killed someone, or robbed people, or… Or was just a horrible person?"

"Then your mother wouldn't have fallen in love with him! Besides," she added, grabbing Oliver's shoulders and staring him in the eyes, "there's no way someone as nice as you could have a horrible, mean father! Everyone was probably just angry because he didn't propose to your mother. I know _I_ would be – what kind of man wouldn't propose to the love of his life? Honestly! I'd feel bad for someone going out with a person like that! What an unromantic relationship that would be! _I'd_ never go out with someone like that!"

Oliver smiled. Although Esther _was_ a tad bit annoying – _more than a _bit,_ laddie,_ a little voice in his head whispered – she could always be counted upon to brighten a situation, however grim.

"Anyways," Esther continued, "from now on, we'll meet at the park with the giant red slide every… Every Wednesday after school. Okay?"

Oliver wrinkled his nose, confused. "Huh? How come?"

She stomped her foot. "Well, to plan how we're going to find him, obviously! If we always meet up at each other's houses, our parents will eventually figure out what we're planning to do, so we'll tell them we've got a club or something and meet up at the park! It's far enough that they probably won't go there, and if they do, just tell them the club activities finished early and that we went there to play a bit before going home! It's pretty far, but it's not _that_ far, after all."

Oliver frowned and looked down. "But… I don't want to lie to my mom…"

Esther stomped again. "Well, think of how happy she'll be when you manage to find Lucien and get them to meet on her birthday! It'll be such a better surprise, too, if no one besides us knows about it!"

Oliver sighed. Esther was especially annoying when she was determined to get things done her way. She'd whine and beg and plead until she got her way. "Okay, then… I guess…"

She beamed and straightened. "I thought so! Now, come on! We're going to be late!"

She began to run, blonde braid flying behind her, as Oliver followed close behind.

/( ._.) (?.?)

"Hey, Mom! I'm home!"

"Welcome back, sweetie!"

Oliver locked the door and rushed into the kitchen, where Alicia was chopping up vegetables. "Mom, I…uh…joined a club at school. It's on Wednesdays, so I'll come home a bit later on those days, okay?"

Alicia looked over at him. "A club? What kind of club?"

Oliver stammered. "Uh… Uh… It's the…the nature club!"

Alicia gave him a funny look. Oliver, in his panic, thought it looked suspicious.

"The nature club? What do you do?"

"We… We walk around and look at the nature. The teacher – Miss Rodney's our club leader – says that we'll also learn a bit about nature, like different birds and plants and wildflowers…and things like that!"

Oliver could feel himself begin to sweat. Alicia gave him one final look, then went back to her vegetables.

"Sounds fun, sweetie. When does it end?"

He frantically racked his brain. What had Esther said? "It lasts about…an hour or so? I think… Sometimes longer, sometimes shorter… We walk around the neighborhood and go to parks, too. It's really fun!"

"Hmm. Nice. Share some of the things you learn with me sometimes, would you?"

"Of course, Mom!"

Oliver quickly ran up the stairs with his back pack. He shut the door softly and breathed a sigh of relief.

He'd survived the interrogation. Although he felt bad about lying to his mom, he knew that it was for the greater good.

_I hope Esther's dad believed her too…_ he thought worriedly as he took out his notebooks and began his homework.

(*~*)

"Oliver!"

Oliver looked up and waved when he saw Esther, clothed in purple and yellow – as usual – approach. She sat down on the bench next to him.

"So, Oliver, how long do you have?"

He thought back to the nerve-wracking experience. "I think I have an hour."

Esther beamed. "So do I! So, what club did you say you have?"

Oliver flushed, ducked his head, and muttered, "The… The nature club."

"The _nature_ club?"

He nodded. He could feel his cheeks burning with shame.

"Oliver!" Esther cried. "That's so unimaginative! I told Father I'd joined the sports team management club, and that our job was to help the school's sports teams to manage their money and help them select recruits. He thought that meant I'd be at games, too, but of course, I told him not. I wish I _were_ spending my afternoons with the sports teams, though," she said wistfully. "Then I'd get to spend time with so many boys…"

"A-Anyway," Oliver interrupted, "how are we going to find Lucien?"

Esther frowned and tapped her chin. "Hmm… I haven't thought of that yet."

For an hour straight, they brainstormed ideas. Esther suggested posting ads in the newspaper about helping a boy who needed his mother's fairy-tale romance to come true. Oliver quickly rejected that idea. Then Esther rejected Oliver's idea of visiting every house they could to get information about people named Lucien.

Sadly, those were the only ideas they came up with in the hour.

"Oh, this is _impossible,_" Esther groaned an hour later. She leaned back and let her braid droop over the back of the bench. "How are we _ever_ going to find him?"

"I have no idea. We have to try, though."

They walked home glumly. Alicia noticed her son's dark mood right away.

"Oliver, are you okay? What happened? Were the other club members mean to you?"

_Club members?_

Then he remembered: He'd told her that he was spending an hour a week at a nature club.

"N-No, it's not that," he quickly told her.

She frowned. "What is it, then, sweetie? You look upset."

He quickly thought up an excuse. "It's just… It was a bit more boring than I expected. The teacher just talked about different grasses during the entire hour."

Alicia stifled a laugh. "_Grasses?_ Not even flowers?"

Oliver nodded. "Someone told me that it was one of the more boring club meetings. I hope the next week will be more fun."

Alicia ruffled his hair and kissed him on the cheek. "Well, I hope so too, sweetie."

(. .) (^.^ )

That Saturday evening, Oliver went with his mother to Khulan and Kublai's house for the weekly meeting of the Wise Men.

Esther arrived with her father at around the same time, and when he caught her eye, she winked.

He smiled back, hesitantly.

When they went inside the modest bungalow, Kublai was waiting with a bucket full of ice and wine.

"Here ya go, little lassie and lad!" he cried, already half-drunk. He tossed Esther and Oliver a fruit punch and orange juice box, respectively. Both of them were unprepared for the throw and almost dropped their drinks.

"Hello, Kublai," Alicia said as she took off her jacket and hung it up. "Where's Khulan?"

He shoved a thumb over his shoulder. "She's in th' kitchen, preparin' grub for ye and the laddies."

"I am _not_ a 'laddie'!" Esther cried. She crossed her arms, stomped her foot, and glared at Kublai. "I am a _girl!_"

Kublai laughed. "Aye, the lassie's got some fire in her!"

Esther fumed as Oliver grabbed her and pulled her to the dining room. "Calm down, Esther," he told her. "Kublai's just drunk."

"I can see that perfectly well myself!" she retorted, tossing her hair over a shoulder. "He should learn to hold his drink better!"

Uh-oh. Oliver knew what was coming. This happened nearly every time the meeting was at Kublai's house.

"Even a 'little lassie' like me can hold my drink better than a great big hulking bully like him!"

Aaannd… There it was. Oliver sighed. "Esther, aren't you too young to drink?"

She was already rolling up her sleeves in preparation for the drinking competition, to come. "Well, it's never stopped anyone before, has it?"

Oliver sighed again and followed Esther back into the living room.

"Kublai!" she shouted, putting one fisted hand on her hip and pointing at him with the other. "I challenge you to a drinking competition!"

Kublai grinned at her. "Little lassie, yer too small t' hold as much drink as me. Learn yer manners 'n respect yer elders."

She flushed in anger. "How many so far?"

He held up three fingers. Esther grabbed a wine goblet and filled it up to the brim, downing it in one go. She did it two more times.

"There! Now we're even!"

Rashaad groaned and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "Oh, Esther, not again."

Alicia smiled from her seat on the couch. "Oh, is it starting again? This is so much fun to watch!"

Oliver sat beside her and watched as she filled up a goblet for herself. Khulan appeared not too long after with a tray with plates of nuts, dried berries, and crackers.

"I brought the refreshments," she announced as she put the tray on the coffee table. "Is Marcassin here yet?"

Right as she finished, the doorbell rang. Kublai chuckled.

"Right on time, just as always."

Khulan opened the door, and Marcassin, blue-black hair mussed by the wind, walked in. "It's awfully chilly out there," he said. He saw Esther holding the bottle of wine and filling up both her and Kublai's goblets. He smiled. "Her hands haven't even begun to shake yet. I take it she just arrived?"

* (*v*)\

Two and a half hours later, the refreshments tray was picked clean, and Esther was passed out cold on her father's lap. Kublai had passed out way before her, when she'd won the drinking competition almost an hour ago – the acidic stench in the washroom was proof of that. In fact, everyone except Oliver had had at least one or two goblets of wine.

He snuggled up against Alicia's shoulder. "Hey, Mom," he mumbled. "I'm tired. Tell me a story?"

He felt her fingers lightly brush his cheek as she pushed a stray piece of hair behind his ear. "Of course, sweetie. Which one?"

"The one about you and Lucien."

All at once, the happy chatter stopped.

Oliver sat up and blearily rubbed his eyes. Everyone – young Marcassin included – was frozen, staring at Oliver as though he'd uttered a curse that would doom the world to destruction. "Mom? What.. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, sweetie," she quickly said. "How about we go home, and I'll tell you that story?"

"Is it Lucien?"

Again, everyone tensed. Rashaad had to put down his goblet – he was clenching it so hard, it looked like it would shatter in his hand. "Alicia," he said in a low, dark voice, "what's this about Lucien?"

She lifted her chin defiantly and slung an arm over Oliver's shoulders, almost as though to protect him. "A child deserves the right to know about his own father."

"Yes, but not to be _lied_ to!" Khulan snapped. The wine that had previously set them in a festive room now made the tension in the air thick and heady, almost visible to the eye. "Does Oliver even know what Lucien was truly like?"

"He knows what I believe Lucien to be like."

Marcassin spoke up. "If you truly believe Lucien to be the perfect man like you've no doubt told young Oliver, then why did you leave him?"

Alicia stood up and grabbed Oliver's hand. "Come on, Oliver. We're leaving."

"But…" Oliver stumbled after his mother. "Who _was_ my dad?"

Alicia crouched down and forced him to put on his jacket. Her hands, when she buttoned him up, were pale and shaking. "You don't need to know anything like that."

She hastily pulled on her own jacket, and they were soon out the door and on their way home, leaving nothing behind but the loud, resonating sound of a slammed door.

* * *

**A/N:** I am in no way promoting alcoholism. I just think that the idea of a drunk Esther outdrinking Captain Kublai is funny. It is, isn't it? Or am I just delusional?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** EEEE! SWAIIIINE!

Enjoy an entire chapter dedicated to them meeting Swaine. I don't know what I was thinking, either.

* * *

"So, what happened on Wednesday?" Esther yawned as she jogged with Oliver to school. "I had a _massive_ hangover Sunday morning, but I don't remember anything past the third bottle. Did you get any information about your father?"

Oliver shook his head and didn't say anything.

Esther noticed his unnatural silence. "Oliver, are you all right?"

He managed to find his voice. "They all hate my father," he mumbled. "They said that my mom's been lying to me about what Lucien is like, and that he's a horrible person, and that she shouldn't be telling me about him."

It took Esther a long time to digest this knowledge and come up with something that would make him feel better. "Well, they're probably just worried about you. I bet the wine made them exaggerate a lot. Maybe their memories are bad. I'm sure he'll be much nicer than he seems when you meet him."

"I hope so," Oliver muttered.

The rest of the walk to school was spent in silence.

(. .)\ (. .)

"I still haven't been able to get any information from my mom." Oliver slumped down on the park bench in disappointment. Esther did the same.

"My father yells at me whenever I try to ask him about it." She sighed. "This is much harder than it looks, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

They sat in silence for a while longer. Then Esther spoke up.

"How about we go to the convenience store? I've got my allowance that my dad just gave me. Maybe some candy or iced tea will make us feel better."

Oliver nodded and followed her to the store right across the street.

As usual, she went all the way to the walkway, even though it meant a longer walk. Oliver didn't protest: He'd tried crossing in the middle of the street once, and had almost gotten run over. It was a horrifying experience that he never wanted to go through again.

"So, what do you want, Oliver?" Esther asked once they entered. "I've only got five dollars on me, so we can't get much."

"I'll just have a bottle of pop, I guess," he muttered. Esther nodded, grabbed a bag of chips off a nearby rack, and made her way to the drink refrigerators. A teenager on the cusp of adulthood wearing a scruffy green jacket was standing there, mulling over two drinks.

"Excuse me." Esther tapped him on the shoulder. "Could you move for a second?"

The stranger jumped so suddenly that he knocked aside Esther's hand. She and Oliver watched as a pack of sour candy tumbled out of his sleeve, ever-so-slowly, almost as though they were watching in slow motion.

They didn't hear it hit the ground. The stranger scooped it back up in his sleeve before it could, kneeling to the ground in the guise of tying his shoelace.

Oliver couldn't find his voice. Esther managed to find a little of it.

"Th… Thief."

The man looked up frantically when he heard Esther squeak out the word.

"Thief. Thief. Thief," she repeated, over and over, unable to get it out any louder than a faint whisper. The curly-haired stranger quickly grabbed them and rushed to the front of the store, scolding them loudly. "I thought I told you guys we couldn't buy anything! You lot just ran off in the middle of our picture. It took me forever to find you!"

When Esther opened her mouth to draw in a big breath in preparation for a scream, he released her hand and clamped his hand over her mouth. "No buts," he said firmly. From the way he was acting, it would've been impossible to guess that they were strangers. "Grandma and Grandpa are waiting, you know."

He dragged them out of the store and into a narrow alley across the street and a few stores down. It was only then that he released his hold on Oliver's hand and Esther's mouth.

"You're a thief!" she yelled, loudly enough that Oliver felt like everyone for miles around could hear. The stranger quickly covered her mouth again.

"Don't say anything, okay?"

He glared at her until she nodded vigorously. Once he was satisfied that she'd keep her promise, he let her go, and she fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"I don't get what you're getting so excited about." He crossed his arms and looked down at her. "It was just a little bag of candy."

Oliver found his voice. "It might just be a little, but stealing is still wrong!"

He turned to Oliver and held his hands up in mock surrender. "Oh ho ho! So the little mouse here has a voice after all!"

"I'm not a mouse!" Oliver cried. The stranger chuckled.

"Sure, sure, sure. If you say so, little mousey-pants."

Oliver flushed a deep red. The stranger turned back to Esther. That one motion was all it took for a cascade of gum, candy, and lollipops to tumble down from the back of his shirt, the cuffs of his sleeves, and even from one of his filthy socks.

Esther glared up at him. "'Just a bag of candy', you said?"

He held his hands up again. "Guilty as charged, kid."

She stood up and stomped her foot hard against the ground. "I am _not_ a _kid!_ I'm a whole eleven years old!"

"That's pretty young, flower blossom." The stranger smirked as he looked her over from head to toe. Her angry flush intensified.

"_I'm not a little flower, either!_"

"Yes, you are. Look at you!" The stranger gestured at her entire outfit. "You're dressed in all purple and yellow – even your shoes are purple! Besides, your hair's the right color and shape to be like one of those things in flowers that carry pollen – stamen, or something, I think they were called."

"But I'm _not_ a _flower_, and I'm _also not little!_"

"Yeah!" Oliver piped in. "You're just a dirty thief! What gives you the right to say that stuff about us?"

The stranger looked over to Oliver in surprise, as though he'd forgotten about him – again. "About _us?_ Beg your pardon, but I only insulted the little lady here."

"I'm _not_ a little lady!"

"Lying is still wrong, though!"

The stranger looked at them with a smile on his face. "You lot are the most curious people I've ever met, do you know that?"

"No," Oliver instantly said.

"_You're_ the strange one here!" Esther yelled. "You steal from a convenience store, and then you kidnap us just because we saw you committing a crime! And _then_ you have the gall to _insult_ me!"

"Never meant it to be personal, though." The stranger laughed. "Well, if you're going to keep chattering on to me like that, I suppose some introductions are in order. I'm Swaine. And you, little princess?"

"She's Esther," Oliver said before Esther could exclaim "I'm not a little princess". "And my name's Oliver."

"Well, Oliver, I'd very much appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about the incident back there."

Up to that point, Esther had been doing her best to keep her mouth shut. At that, though, she blurted out, "But stealing is _wrong!_"

Oliver agreed. "Stealing, even if you're just stealing a little-"

Esther kicked a container of gum and grumbled, "Just a _little_."

"-isn't a good thing to do. We've got to take all this stuff back to the shop owner and apologize."

"You kids can go ahead and do that if you want," Swaine said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "I think I'll stay right here."

Esther grabbed his arm. "And run off while we go? I don't think so, you thief!"

"Esther, come on." Oliver grabbed her arm and pulled her off Swaine. "We've only got a while left now. We still haven't come up with any ideas, you know."

Swaine watched them as they argued. He tapped his chin with one finger, deep in thought.

"Hold on," he interrupted. "Have I seen you lot before?"

Oliver was about to say no when Esther said, "Well, _my_ father's the master chef Rashaad. He has his own cooking channel – although I suppose you wouldn't know that, since you probably don't even have a place to live!"

Upon hearing the name Rashaad, Swaine's eyes lit up. "So _that's_ where!" he muttered to himself. "Esther, you said your name was?"

"Yes, I did!" She crossed her arms. "Why?"

Swaine turned to Oliver. "And you are… Oliver? Lucien and Alicia's son?"

Both Oliver and Esther paused.

Swaine shook his head, trying to sort his thoughts. "Hold on a moment then… What are you both doing out here, alone? Why aren't you with your parents?"

"How do you know Lucien?" Esther demanded. At the same time, Oliver answered, "We're trying to find my father without letting anyone know. It's going to be a birthday gift for my mom."

Swaine shook his head again. "Oddest idea for a birthday gift yet, lad." He sighed, dusted off his jacket, and straightened up. "Tell you what – I'll help you."

Oliver stared at him, wide-eyed. "Will you really? Gee, thanks, Mr. Swaine! That would be a huge help!"

Esther grabbed Oliver and dragged him further down the alley, as far away from Swaine as possible. "Have you already forgotten?" she whispered. "That man's a thief! Who knows what his real intentions are?"

"But…" Oliver looked back at Swaine, patiently waiting for them to finish their conversation. "Even though he stole, he seems like a good guy. I'm sure he has his reasons for what he did."

Esther stomped. The vibrations traveled through the alley, and Oliver cringed when he saw Swaine suddenly look their way. "But he's a thief! Oliver, what happened to doing the right thing? Do you _really_ want to trust someone as rough and dirty as him?"

"He can probably help us, though," Oliver argued. "I mean, he knows about Lucien, doesn't he? And he seemed like he knew Rashaad, too."

Esther mashed her teeth together. "He's probably lying to us! He's a manipulator, Oliver! We can't trust him!"

In response, Oliver walked past her toward Swaine. Esther followed him, muttering vague obscenities under her breath.

"So, will you take my help, or not?"

"We won't!" Esther exclaimed. "We're not trusting someone like _you!_"

Swaine smirked, as though he'd expected her to say it all along. His next words surprised the two children.

"Esther, your birthday was last month."

She stood, dumbfounded, as Swaine pointed to Oliver next. "Yours is in the spring – either March or April, I think."

"You meet up every Saturday evening for what you call the meeting of the Four Wise Men. The four wise men are Rashaad – _your_ father," he said, pointing at Esther, "and _your _mother." He pointed at Oliver again.

Everything he'd said so far was true.

"The other two are Khulan and Hamelin – although Hamelin's dead now, so I suppose Marcassin's taken his place."

For a brief moment, his eyes unfocused, and he stared into the distance with sorrow in his eyes. Then the moment was over and he snapped back to reality.

"Khulan's with old Kublai, I suppose, and Rashaad's wife left him quite a while ago, I forget exactly when. It was two or three years before Alicia left Lucien, I think, and joined us – the other 'wise men' here. Oliver, you were just a baby at the time."

Swaine smiled at them and spread his hands apart. "Have I gotten anything wrong yet?"

Oliver leaned over and whispered in Esther's ear, "I think we should trust him."

She pouted and put her hands on her hips. "Fine," she grumbled. "But at the first sign that he's lying to us, or doing _anything_ dishonest in general, he's _gone!_ Do you understand?"

Her last sentence was addressed to Swaine, who smirked and gracefully bowed.

"As you wish, your highness."

She began to sputter with rage again. Oliver grabbed her arm and began tugging her out of the alley.

"Meet us every Wednesday at the nearby park!" he called over his shoulder. "The one with the big red slide! We'll come as soon as school is over!"

Swaine watched them go with a big smile.

"I'd almost forgotten what little kids were like." He sighed. "Good thing they let me join them. I don't think Alicia or Rashaad would've ever forgiven me if I'd let one of them get hurt."

* * *

**A/N:** OOOOHHHH stuff just got serious.


	4. Chapter 4

The next meeting was held at Oliver's house. While all the adults enjoyed themselves with wine and beer, and Esther cooed over photos Marcassin had brought of his younger self and his – handsome – missing brother, Oliver sat beside the fish tank and watched the fish swim.

So far, they only had five fish: A giant tropical sunfish named Drippy with a funny yellow marking on its nose; a clownfish named Mitey; an odd orange catfish named Tom; an algae eater named Cowlipha Lowlah (Alicia was the one who'd come up with that name); and an angelfish donated by Esther that she'd named Gogo.

"Mr. Drippy, how am I supposed to find Lucien by my mom's birthday?" he murmured. He put his elbow on the side table and watched Drippy swim about. Sometimes, he felt like Drippy was trying to talk to him – but of course, that was ridiculous. Drippy was only a fish.

Suddenly, Drippy begin to swim frantically to the surface, mightily thrashing about. Startled, Oliver opened the lid of the fish tank.

Drippy jumped out of the water with so much force that he landed on the phone book on the ground next to the table.

Oliver quickly knelt down and picked Drippy up with cupped hands. Drippy immediately began thrashing about, falling on the phone book – again. Oliver tried again, but again, Drippy fell out. Frustrated, Oliver grabbed Drippy in his shirt and dumped him back in the tank, half-removing his shirt in the process; as he pulled his shirt back down, Drippy jumped out and landed on the phone book. Again.

"Why the phone book?" Oliver cried as he tried, one final time, to put Drippy back in the aquarium. "Why not the table? You're just making this harder for me, Mr. Drippy!"

The fish thrashed about on the phone book, smacking its tail against it several times. Coincidentally, the place he smacked with his tail was the line that read, _"listings, names, addresses and phone numbers – all conveniently stored in one book!_"

One word caught Oliver's eye.

_Names._

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Drippy," he breathed. He quickly picked the fish up and put it back in the tank. This time, it swam lazily as Oliver closed the lid. Whatever message it had wanted to send was sent.

Oliver picked up the phone book and began flipping through the pages. The cover was a big damp, thanks to Drippy, but otherwise, it was in perfect condition.

It was in perfect condition to help him find his father.

(*.*)

"Hey, Esther! Look what I found!"

Esther stared at the object that he shoved into her hands, exhausted from the sprint down his driveway.

"Oliver, this is a phone book."

He nodded. "We can use it to find Lucien!"

She gave him a funny look. "Huh? What? How?"

Oliver grabbed the book from her and began to flip through the pages furiously. "See? There're names listed here. I bet Swaine knows Lucien's last name. If he knows his last name, then finding him will be easy-peasy!"

Esther stared at it a while longer. Finally, it all began to sink it.

"You mean…you want to find everyone with Lucien's last name and visit their house to find out if they're really Lucien or not?"

He nodded again. That was all the confirmation she needed.

"That'll take a lot of walking, you know."

Judging from the excitement on Oliver's face, he didn't really care.

(^o^)

"Wait." Swaine tapped his chin in deep thought. "You're telling me that you want to use a phone book to find your missing dad?"

Oliver beamed. "Yep! Swaine, you know my dad's last name, right? We can get started right away!"

"You know, there are a few problems with that plan," Swaine continued, ignoring Oliver.

"That's what _I_ told him, but he didn't listen!"

"First of all…" Swaine began to tick the points off on his fingers. "This phone book only covers our region. What if he lives further away?"

"Then we get a bigger phone book!"

Clearly, Oliver was determined to find his father using this technique, no matter what complications were imposed.

"Second of all, what if he's listed under a different name? Say, he's married someone else, or he's a tenant in someone else's home?"

Oliver didn't say anything to contradict that point.

"Third of all, how are we going to get to these houses? Some of them are a three-hour walk away – _one_ way!"

"We'll take a bus," Oliver muttered. Esther could tell that he was beginning to lost heart in this idea – only a little, but even so, he was growing slightly less enthusiastic. "We'll pay with our own allowance. If we need an adult to accompany us, we'll get you to come."

Swaine shook his head and sighed. "Fourth of all… Lucien's last name is 'Johnson'."

That perked Oliver up again. "So? What's the big deal?"

Even if Oliver didn't understand, Esther did. She sighed, took the phone book from Oliver, and began to flip through the pages. "You'll understand when you see it."

He did.

The phone book was nine hundred pages long. Of those nine hundred pages, five hundred were devoted to residential phone numbers. The pages were size ten font, single-spaced, with two columns of names and numbers.

Of all those pages, forty-five were devoted to the last name "Johnson".

Oliver could feel his heart begin to sink. How on Earth were they going to finish this in nine months? They'd only be meeting once a week. That meant they'd only have about forty hours to look at _all_ of these houses. And what if Lucien didn't live in any of them?

Esther watched him and patted him kindly on the back. "We could just ask my father," she suggested. "I'm sure he'll see our side of it eventually."

"No." Oliver looked up, determination bright in his eyes. "We're doing this without any help."

Esther smiled wearily. "All right. If you say so, I guess I can't complain."

Swaine sighed, shook his head, and face-palmed. "Why did I get caught up in this again?"

Oliver looked up at him. "Does that mean you're doing it with us?"

"Of course I am! Don't be mad!"

"All right, then." Oliver gulped. "I guess we should get started."

('o'):)

"Oliver, sweetie, are you all right? How's the club?"

Oliver lifted his head off the table. "It's good. I'm just tired… Grade two is so much harder than grade one…"

Alicia patted his head. "Don't forget – if you ever need help with your homework, I'm right here. Okay?"

"..Mmmkay…"

The winter holiday was less than a week away. For three weeks, he'd go on a cruise with his mother and the other Wise Men – to save money, they'd rented shared cabins.

That was three fewer weeks he had to search for his father.

Swaine had managed to create a list of all the locations in order of distance. He'd even conveniently put all the homes that were near each other in the same section of the list. So far, out of the approximately 6500 names in the list, they'd gone through about 140 names – and those were the ones that were closest to the park where they met. Swaine had offered to look up some of the further ones in his spare time, since he wasn't as busy as Esther or Oliver, but Esther had firmly refused to give him any money for bus or subway tokens – "remember how we met him? We met him when he was stealing things from a store! How do we know he won't just make off with the money and simply _pretend_ he was going to those houses?" – so he'd been forced to go to the nearest ones possible. Every week, when he received his allowance, Oliver tucked it away in this wallet to save up for the bus and subway tokens they'd later need. Child fare wasn't cheap; adult fare, even less so. Although he and Esther had agreed to split their money to get Swaine's tokens, it was still going to eat up a lot of cash, and besides which, public transit wasn't very fast, either. They simply didn't have enough time.

The next morning, he met Esther with a very strange proposition.

"What I have on Wednesday afternoons? Hmm…" Esther tapped her chin and thought. "Well… It's mostly just math or language, although the teacher sometimes takes us outside for DPA."

Suddenly, she stopped walking. "Oliver… Surely, you can't be thinking…"

Oliver sighed. "I know, I know. I feel really bad about it, too, but… We don't have enough time, Esther! We're not going to be able to finish all those names by July, and I don't want to waste a whole year finding Lucien. We're going to have to skip school."

And that was that.

The next time they met up with Swaine, they told him to come a bit earlier than usual. He saw through it right away, of course.

"Oh, no." He backed away and shook his head. "You kids aren't skipping school for something like this. As boring as it may be – and believe me, I know how boring it can be – school is important for your future lives. You don't want to skip, fail, and then end up like me."

"It's only for this one year, though!" Oliver protested. "Just until I find my dad!"

Swaine shook his head again. "No way! You're not getting me into this!"

Esther put her hands on her hips and stomped her foot. "Why not? You voluntarily agreed to join this mission, you know! Are you backing out now because you're too scared to keep going?"

He glared at her and growled, "I am _not_ a chicken!"

"Oh, really?" she taunted. "Because you sure seem like one now! You're not _Swaine,_ you're _swine_ – a scaredy-cat swine!"

In the end, Swaine agreed to help them forge notes to get out of class.

It turned out that he knew exactly what Rashaad and Alicia's writing looked like, and it only took him a few minutes and several sheets of paper to construct satisfactory notes.

_Dear Mr/Mrs. _,_

_ My son/daughter, Oliver/Esther, will be leaving school two periods early every Wednesday, starting from today. They have told me that they're willing to do extra homework to catch up with their classmates in order to be able to spend time with their ailing grandparents, who have been moved to a hospital an hour's drive away. I hope you will excuse their absence._

_Sincerely,_

_ Alicia/Rashaad_

It was perfect. Both teachers lapped it up like puppies, expressing their dearest condolences for their grandparents – and yes, of course, I'd be happy to not call your parents every time! I understand that it'll force them through more pain and suffering when they come home and find these messages on their answering machines, reminding them of their beloved parents' suffering…

So from then on, they had an extra one and a half hours to search for Lucien. It wasn't much, but it would do.

RIP (X.-)

"Excuse me, but have you ever heard of someone named Alicia Sagess?"

"Ne'er heard of 'er," a gruff, slightly slurred voice answered from within. "Try another house."

Esther sighed as they walked away and crossed yet another name off the list. "Two hundred and ninety-three down, and only…" She did the mental math. "Around six thousand two hundred and seven to go."

"I'm tired," Oliver mumbled. His head was buried in a map, although he was clearly slouching and dragging his feet. This was taking more of a toll on him than they'd expected.

"Come on, you're the one who came up with this brilliant idea in the first place, Oliver!" Swaine snapped. "Hurry up!"

Esther glared at him and, very deliberately, stepped on his foot with her half-inch heel. He winced and clutched his foot in agony.

"What was _that_ for?" he bellowed. She shot him another angry look.

"Don't be like that," she muttered, low enough that the exhausted Oliver couldn't hear. "He's more tired than any of us – I bet he's been staying up all night, worrying about what his father would be like, or if he'd ever be able to find him."

Swaine snapped back, in a voice just as low as hers, "It was still his bloody idea! If he's so tired, why doesn't he just call it off?"

"Why don't _you_ just leave if you hate it so much? Hmm?"

Swaine fell silent. Esther mentally marked that off as a victory for her.

"See? If _you_ can't do it, how do you expect _him_ to do it, when the person we're looking for is _his father?_"

"Still," he grumbled, shuffling behind her. "Why didn't we just call all these people instead of visiting them?"

"People can lie more easily over the phone than face-to-face," she said primly, chin held high like a princess. Clearly, she'd done plenty of research in case this argument ever came up. "Besides, if we meet the real Lucien and he tries to lie to us, you'd know – after all, you know what he looks like, don't you?"

She spun around and glared at him, daring him to lie. He sighed.

"Yeah, I do."

She turned forward again. "See? What did I tell you?"

Oliver turned around and called, "Hey, are you guys coming? We've got another house just down this block."

Esther replied, "I'm coming!" and began to jog. Swaine sighed and wearily followed suit.

Who knew? he thought. Maybe they would find the guy, although goodness knew the chances of that were very bloody low.

(o.O)

Alicia beamed in the car as she drove to the school. Wouldn't Oliver and Esther be surprised! Today, she'd just gotten paid for an article she wrote about education and poverty, and it was a large enough paycheck that she could afford to treat them all to some ice cream sundaes.

Who knew? Maybe if she was in a good enough mood, she'd invite Rashaad, and Kublai, and Khulan, and maybe even Marcassin, if he had the time in between studying for his final exams. All high school exams were tough, but they were always even more stressful when you knew that they were the last high school exams you'd ever take. Marcassin had quite the sweet tooth; perhaps a sundae would help him relax.

She parked in front the school and waited patiently for Oliver and Esther to appear, backpacks on and ready for a treat. She was certain that they'd walk this way eventually – they _had_ to; their house was just down the street from the school, so there was no way they'd take another route.

As she waited and more and more children began leaving the school grounds, though, she felt a sense of worry come over her. What was wrong? Were they in detention?

Then she smacked herself in the head. Of course! Today was Wednesday! Oliver had his nature club today!

Surely he could skip _one_ meeting. Ice cream sundaes _had_ to trump school clubs.

She got out of the car, making sure to lock it, and went into the office.

"Excuse me," she said to one of the secretaries, "but where is the nature club taking place?"

The secretary's fingers flew across the keyboard as she presumably searched up the nature club. After a few minutes, she looked up, slightly confused. "I'm sorry, ma'am-"

"Alicia."

"-Alicia, but there's no nature club."

The panic was beginning to grow. "Could you check again? Maybe it was the outdoor club, I'm not too sure."

The secretary shook her head. "I'm sorry, but there's no club related to nature that meets today."

Yes, something was _definitely_ wrong. Before Alicia could break down into a complete panic attack, the secretary said, "You're Alicia Sagess, right? Your son is Oliver, grade two?"

"Yes." Alicia watched as the secretary rolled over to the filing cabinet and began to rifle through the papers.

"I thought so!" she exclaimed triumphantly, minutes later. "Here, Miss Alicia – your son's gone off to visit his…sick…grandparents."

The secretary frowned and her forehead furrowed as she chewed on a nail. "What? Miss Alicia, with all due respect, either the note is false or-"

"Give me that note," Alicia said, thrusting out her hand. The secretary mutely obliged – she knew better than to get between a woman and her child.

Alicia read the note over – once, twice, then three times, each time with the sense of urgency growing inside her. "Sick grandparents"? She didn't have grandparents – none of the Wise Men did! They were all foster siblings, raised by a single couple who'd died a few years back, before Oliver, Esther, Marcassin, or even Gascon was born. She ran back to the secretary.

"Excuse me, but do you have another note for a girl named Esther Anabab?"

It only took a matter of seconds for the secretary to locate another note, identical to the first, save for the names and handwriting, which distinctly resembled Rashaad's.

Alicia picked up the office phone and dialed a number. Let the school staff try to stop her.

She had a son and a niece to locate.

* * *

**A/N:** They do face-palm in the game. I'd use another word if I could – "face palm" sounds ugly, but "slapped themselves in the face" also sounds somewhat…odd. And not right. So "face-palm" it is. If the phrase disgusts you in writing, trust me, you're not the only one.

Also, for all you Americans, DPA is basically extra physical education in a non-gym class, so - for example - your homeroom teacher will just randomly take you outside sometimes to play sports. Basically.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** And now...let the overly excessive romance and shipping and _sappiness_ (blargh) begin.

God, I am hating myself so much right now. I'd flame myself if I could. Somebody, please flame me for making this so Esther and Swaine-centric all of a sudden. I just... _Argh._

Actually, don't flame me. That would just make me even more miserable.

And I'm very sorry if it's badly edited, but I just skimmed through it because, honestly, it _sickens me. _It really, really does. So I'm very, very sorry.

* * *

"…ther! Oli…"

Esther heard a voice at the far edges of her consciousness. She wrinkled her nose and lifted a hand to bat it away. She was tired – so tired. She'd been walking for at least an hour straight with Oliver and Swaine. All she wanted was to get a little more rest.

Just…a little…more…

Her eyes snapped open.

What? When had she fallen asleep? She pushed herself up on her elbows, then heard a low groan and jumped back, accidentally slamming her hip into the bench's armrest in her shock. It was coming from Swaine – she'd dug her elbows into his thigh when trying to get up.

She stared at the scene before her. Swaine was fast asleep on the bench, nose up to the sky and snoring like there was no tomorrow. Oliver was asleep, too, leaning against Swaine's shoulder, map still open on his map like he'd been trying to get directions to somewhere when he'd fallen asleep.

When had she fallen asleep? She didn't remember falling asleep, much less falling asleep on Swaine's lap! She blushed and turned away. The voice was getting louder.

"Esther!….Oliver!….It's me, Marcassin!"

"Marcassin?" she whispered to herself. She stared down at her hands. Her fingertips were casting long shadows against her palms. Everything around her was dyed a warm orange. She could feel herself begin to doze off again.

Orange… Orange, the colour of a sunset…

Wait.

She forced her eyes open and looked around. The sun was setting. How long had they been sleeping? They should've been back home long before sunset! The last thing she remembered was coming back from a particularly nasty woman's house. Oliver had been at a complete loss for where the nearest bus stop was when Swaine had sat down for a quick nap… Then she'd followed suit….

Ohhhh, this was not good.

She forced herself to stand up and almost collapsed – her legs had been folded for so long she could barely stand straight anymore. She began to wobble toward Marcassin's voice.

"We're here!" She winced at the hoarseness of her voice – when did she last get a drink of water? Or any food, for that matter? She coughed a few times into her fist, then repeated it, louder this time: "Marcassin! Over here!"

She saw him round a corner. She waved him over and led him to the bench, where Oliver and Swaine were still sleeping soundly. Marcassin sighed in relief.

"Thank goodness. Your father and Alicia were nearly ripping out the throats of everyone around them when they discovered you two were missing." He frowned when he noticed Swaine. "Who's that?"

Esther saw him tense up and quickly hugged his arm as reassuringly as she could in her half-sleeping state. "Don't worry, Marcassin," she mumbled, eyes half-closed. "He's…a…friend…"

Then she was back off to dreamland.

(=.=)Zzzzzz

Oliver woke up on someone's couch, with a warm blanket over him.

He sat up abruptly. What time was it? They should start going home! His mom would be so worried!

"Don't worry, Oliver. Everything's fine. Just get some rest."

Oliver looked over in the direction of the voice. Marcassin sat on a wooden chair. He had a blanket over him, too, although it looked far thinner than the one Oliver had. Oliver quickly got up and stumbled over to him, handing him his blanket. Marcassin protested.

"Oliver, no – you were out walking for who knows how long yesterday. You need some rest. Just go back to sleep."

"I'm not tired anymore," Oliver said, with a rasping voice. It was true – he felt completely refreshed, just like he always did after a long night's sleep. Marcassin gestured to the table in the middle of the room, with three glasses of water and a large pitcher.

"Help yourself."

Oliver gladly did. He downed one glass of water in a few large gulps, then another the same way. On his third glass, he felt refreshed enough to take small sips instead of large, desperate swallows.

Wordlessly, Marcassin gestured to another table with packages of crackers, a jar of nut mix, and plates of dried fruit. Oliver tore open a bag of crackers and began to munch on a few, taking a few fruits for later.

When was the last time he ate? It'd probably been lunch at school, right before they left.

Oliver swallowed and looked around. "Where are Swaine and Esther?"

"They're in the bedroom." Marcassin sighed. "Poor girl. She managed to show me where you three were, but she was so tired, she fell asleep right after leading me to you. When I drove you three here, she was clutching onto the man's arm for dear life – I didn't want to separate them, so I put them there together. I hope you don't mind the couch."

Oliver shook his head. "No, it's all right; it felt way better than that old wooden bench we were on yesterday, anyways."

Marcassin let loose one or two weary laughs. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that."

Oliver heard a low moan, and Marcassin looked over to the side with a slight smile on his face. "I guess they're awake, then."

It didn't take long for his prediction to be confirmed.

"Oh! You – you _pervert! _What are you doing in the same bed as me?"

They heard a loud smacking sound that made both Oliver and Marcassin wince. Swaine's angry, strained reply came shortly afterward.

"What was _that_ for, you little sloth? How the hell would I know? All _I _remember is you digging your elbows into my leg yesterday!"

"Well, weren't you the one who put me there in the first place?"

"Why would I want to sleep with _you_ near me? I'd rather have you sleeping as far away from me as possible, thank you very much!"

"You…! You could've at least been gracious enough to stay away from me, instead of getting as close to me as you did!"

"It's not my fault – who's the one who woke up first, huh?"

"Clearly you, if you remember me waking up!"

They heard a loud boom – "Esther's on a stomping rampage again," Marcassin commented with a laugh – and then a slam as Esther stormed out of Marcassin's bedroom.

"That-that atrocious man was-"

She pointed a finger in Swaine's direction. Her cheeks were flaming so hot that she looked like a chili pepper. "Whose idea was it to put me in the same room as him, anyway?"

She stomped her foot and glared at Marcassin. "Marcassin! You did it, didn't you!"

"Guilty as charged," he said with a laugh.

Esther glared at him. "It's not _funny!_"

"Hey, Esther, are you thirsty? There's some water here," Oliver quickly said before she could go on a real stomping rampage.

She glared at him, too, but accepted the glass of water he handed her.

"See, some people are actually _nice_," she muttered as she began to gulp down the water.

By the time Swaine was out, she'd already devoured half the nuts and fruit.

"Ow ow ow," he grumbled, rubbing his head. "That _hurt,_ you little-"

He paused when he saw Marcassin. Something like recognition flashed through his eyes, quickly replaced by confusion.

"And…you are…?" he questioned.

Esther answered for him. "He's Marcassin. His dad was Hamelin, one of the four Wise Men. Marcassin's replacing his dad in the circle." She brightened visibly as she added, "He's also got the most handsome older brother ever! I wish I could meet him – it's too bad that he ran away when I was still too little to remember a thing…"

Marcassin stared at Swaine quizzically for a few minutes. "Do I… Do I know you?" he asked hesitantly. Swaine's answer was swift and certain.

"No, I don't think you do."

"Who _are_ you, then?"

This time, it was Oliver who answered. "He's our friend, Swaine. He's helping us with…"

His voice faded. "He's helping us with this…thing we need to do."

"What thing?" Marcassin got up and walked forward until he was face-to-face with Swaine. He gave Swaine one final suspicious look before turning to Oliver. "I need to know what you two were doing that had you skipping school for – oh, I don't know, three months? If you started in January, then since this is March, that's pretty much two and a half months of school. What's so important that you wore yourselves down to the bone to do it?"

Oliver looked down and mumbled, "I can't say."

Marcassin threw his hands up and turned to Esther. "What about you? Can you tell me, or will your answer be the same as Oliver's?"

She gave Oliver a slightly worried look and replied, "I can't tell you, either."

Marcassin turned to Swaine with a desperate look in his eyes. "Now, look," he said in a low voice. "Those two are kids. They don't really understand the meaning of this. You – you look older, _definitely_ old enough to understand. I have grade twelve exams coming up in a few days. I went out to look for them and sacrificed my study time. It's not just me – their parents, their parents' friends, we've all gone crazy searching for them. Please, tell me: What were you guys doing out there?"

Swaine crossed his arms, stuck his chin up, and said, "If you want to know, ask the little kid."

Marcassin staggered back and fell onto the couch with a long, exhausted sigh. "Fine, then," he muttered. "Don't tell me. But let's see how well you hold up against your parents."

(~.~) ( -_-)

Esther, at least, didn't seem the slightest bit worried.

"Marcassin, can you show me a few pictures of your brother, since we're all here anyways?" she begged.

Marcassin, who'd mostly given up on interrogating them, teasingly replied, "Sure – in return, could you tell me why you were out?"

She shook her head vehemently, and Marcassin sighed and handed over a photo album. "Here you go, then. Enjoy."

Esther took the photo album and began flipping through it, _ooh_ing and _aah_ing over the pictures of cute baby Marcassin and handsome-as-ever Gascon. Marcassin didn't care; if anything, he seemed to be enjoying the whole spectacle.

Oliver didn't notice. He fretted over what his mother would say – _will she cry?_ he worried. _Will she yell at me, or scream?_

Alicia had told him, time and time, again, that he was the only bit of her life she truly loved. He couldn't even begin to imagine what finding out he was missing would've done to her.

"Oliver, loosen up!" Esther called. "I'm sure she'll be fine. Come on, take a look at this picture of Marcassin and Gascon! They're both so cute in this picture!"

Oliver didn't have anything better to do, so he went over and listened to Esther squeal over every single photo in the album.

Swaine didn't seem to be enjoying any part of it. He grumbled and looked out of the window, tapping his foot impatiently, but when he tried to leave, Marcassin stopped him.

"Alicia and Rashaad might want to ask you something," Marcassin said, "and they're not exactly in a good mood right now. I don't want to oppose them when they're like this."

So Swaine returned to the couch and sat with his head in his hands. Esther didn't help – every time she let out an especially large squeal, Swaine seemed to be in physical pain, clutching his head and mumbling things to himself under his breath.

Thankfully – or maybe not so thankfully – it only took Alicia and Rashaad a few more minutes to show up.

"Wow, two-room apartments seem a lot smaller when they're filled with six people," Alicia commented as she looked around. Then her gaze fell on Oliver.

"Oliver! Sweetie!" She rushed over to his side and began checking him for bruises, scrapes, or just any injuries in general. "Are you all right? What happened?"

Oliver protested slightly, then went limp and let her do her examination. "Nothing. We just got really tired and took a nap. It was longer than we thought it would be."

She grabbed his face and lifted up his bangs to check his forehead. Once she was satisfied that he was fine, she sighed and gave him a huge hug. "Oh, Oliver. I was so worried. Why were you out there in the first place?"

He looked down. Saying it to Marcassin had been easier. Saying it to his mom, on the other hand… "I… I'm sorry, Mom. I can't tell you."

Meanwhile, Rashaad walked over to his daughter with a dark, furious face. He grabbed her arm and yanked her up from her position on the ground. She winced from the force he used. He roared, "What were you doing, Esther? You could've been killed!"

"But I wasn't, Father!" she retorted. "See? I'm perfectly fine!"

He ignored her. "From now on, you're staying home, right where I can see you, and if you want to leave, I'm escorting you wherever you want to go. You can't do things like this, Esther. What would I do if I lost you?"

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Rashaad continued.

"For all I knew, someone had forged the notes-"

Swaine coughed, very slightly, and Esther sent him a glare.

"-and made off with the two of you, ready to do who knows _what_ to you! If you're going to leave, at least tell me first!"

"But I couldn't, Father!" She looked up at him with steady eyes and said, "I can't tell you anything about this. I just _can't_."

Rashaad paused. Esther's voice and eyes were so steady, so filled with determination, that he felt bad about not letting her do this. But how could he? It was dangerous. She could get herself kidnapped, or killed. She could…

Alicia spoke up, still holding Oliver tightly in her arms. "I'm sure that a harsh punishment is all they need to realize running off and doing things like this without our permission is wrong." She shook Oliver slightly and looked down at him. "Do you understand what I mean, sweetie?"

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts," she said firmly, placing a finger over his lips. "For the next two months, the two of you are grounded."

They both began to loudly protests, but Alicia spoke over their voices.

"You're not allowed to leave the house without one of the Wise Men accompanying you, and if you escape their view for even a minute, you'll be grounded for another week."

Oliver stopped protesting, and gestured for Esther to do the same. He knew when his mom was in serious mode. She wasn't kidding about any of this, and it was all nonnegotiable.

"One of us will take you to and from school every morning, and we're going to tell the staff to make sure you both _stay_ at school the entire day – even during recess."

Oliver moaned. "But Mom…"

"After two months, I'm sure you won't be fans of showing signs of teen rebellion _way_ before your time."

Rashaad rubbed his chin with one hand thoughtfully. "Hmm… Yes, it does sound to be quite the appropriate punishment."

Esther stomped her foot. "It was the exact same as the one _you_ were suggesting earlier!"

"It's still a good idea, though," Rashaad replied. "Although I'd rather make it ten weeks.

"_Father!_"

"By the way, Oliver," Alicia whispered to him, smiling. "Happy ninth birthday."

He stared at her. "Huh? But…isn't today the seventeenth?"

She laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately. "_Yesterday_ was the seventeenth, sweetie! Today's the eighteenth of March. Happy birthday! I'll still let you invite your friends over for a birthday party. What do you say? Me, you, Esther, and Phil?"

Oliver blinked. Phil? Phil, from grade one? He'd already forgotten about Phil. Sure, they were always together during school, but…

"How about me, you, Esther and Swaine?"

It was Alicia's turn to blink. "Who's Swaine?"

"He's the guy in the green coat, right over there."

Alicia released him to turn and point toward the couch. Oliver gasped.

"Where'd he go?"

He ran up to Esther and tugged on her sleeve. When she turned away from her father to look at him, he cried, "Esther, Swaine's gone! I don't know where he went!"

Esther's eyes narrowed. "I bet he was being a great big scaredy-cat and didn't want to stay to get yelled at by our parents for being an irresponsible adult." She crossed her arms and frowned. "Oh, I should've known! See, Oliver, I _told_ you not to trust him!"

"Hey! What's this about not trusting me?" (A/N: I wanted to make Swaine say "oi", but I don't remember him saying that in the game… -.-')

Esther turned to watch him close the bedroom door behind him. "Swaine! What on _earth_ were you doing?"

He scratched the back of his neck and stuffed a hand in his pocket. "Oh, just… Taking a look around." (A/N: He's not stealing stuff, people. If you know his back story, you should have a pretty good idea of why he was 'looking around'. ;P)

Esther propped his fists on her hips and glared at him, entirely unconvinced. Even Oliver's eyes were narrowed.

"What?" He held his hands up in defense. "It's true!"

"What's true?"

Marcassin popped out of nowhere, and the three of them jumped. When had _he _gotten there? He mistook their expressions of surprise for raised eyebrows and explained, "Your parents are discussing ways to make sure they don't loose sight of you for the next two months. Happy birthday, by the way, Oliver. So, what's true?"

Esther flushed and elbowed Swaine. "Why don't _you_ tell him?"

Swaine smirked. "Gascon's an ugly little kid."

She glared up at him, mouth agape. "He is _not!_ He's the handsomest, most princely looking boy I've ever seen!"

Oliver bit on his lip to keep himself from talking. Marcassin covered his mouth as his shoulders shook with the effort to keep in his laughter. Swaine didn't bother hiding his.

"Ha! _That_ kid? He looks like an arrogant, spoiled brat to me!"

"Well, he's _not!_" Esther stomped her foot. "Just because _you_ don't understand the true beauty of romance-"

"What does _romance_ have to do with him?" Swaine demanded, utterly oblivious to the torture that was to come. Oliver and Marcassin, fully aware of what was going to happen next, shared a look: _Here it comes._

Esther sighed happily and clasped her hands together. "Well, he ran away for love, of course! Why else would he suddenly get up and leave all his family and friends behind? I bet he had a girlfriend he'd been seeing secretly whom he loved with all his heart and soul, and when she got in a horribly tragic accident and got sent to a hospital far, far away, he loved her so much that he couldn't bear not seeing her every day, so he went with her and stayed by her side until she fully recovered, and then ran away with her to elope!"

Swaine stared at her, eyebrows raised, jaw hanging. She wasn't done.

"Or maybe his girlfriend was being abused by her parents, or harassed at school, and he loved her so much that he couldn't bear to see her in pain, so he whisked her away to a land far away where they'd live happily ever after!"

Swaine somehow managed to find his voice. "That," he managed to say, "is the stupidest story I have ever heard."

"I'm impressed," Marcassin said. "It took me a full half-hour to find my wits after she told me those stories."

"It took _me_ a few days," Oliver muttered.

This time, it was Swaine who wasn't done. "What makes you think Gascon had any romantic interests at the time? It's not like you have any proof that he was in _love!_"

Esther stiffened. The way Swaine said "love" made it sound like a curse word. "Well, what other reason would he have for running away from home like that?" she cried. "No one knows why he left! Love sounds like a perfectly reasonable explanation for him leaving without any warning at all!"

Swaine sighed and face-palmed. "That is the worst idea out there. What if he was kidnapped, or killed, and that's why he just suddenly disappeared?"

Esther glared at him and stomped her foot. "As if! Why would you ever come up with such a depressing story?"

He spread his hands apart. "Hey – it could be true. It's a _lot_ more likely than those stupid, sappy romantic stories _you_ came up with."

She gave him a final glare and spun on her heel, whipping him in the cheek with her braid. He stumbled back. "Ow! What was _that_ for?"

She ignored him and strode up to Rashaad. "Come on, Father," she announced sending Swaine one last angry glare over her shoulder. "We're going home."

Rashaad didn't protest, and in a few minutes, they both left Marcassin's small apartment.

Alicia looked at them with a smile on her face. "Let me guess: Esther was telling you her stories about Gascon running away?"

Swaine rubbed his cheek and muttered, "Stupidest stories ever. As if that actually happened."

Oliver nodded. "She's so energetic, but she's so romantic that she sometimes gets on your nerves."

"Just _sometimes_," Marcassin agreed with a laugh.

Swaine muttered under his breath, "Way more than _sometimes._"

Alicia stifled a chuckle. "Well, good luck studying for exams, Marcassin. You, um…"

"Swaine," Oliver said.

"Swaine, would you like us to take you home?"

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Sure. Just drop me off at the park – the one with the big red slide."

He followed Alicia and Oliver out of the apartment building. "So you live near that park, Swaine? It's not that far from where Oliver lives. Would you like to come by someday?"

Swaine shook his head. "Nah, no need."

When they were seated in the car, Oliver leaned over and whispered, "Hey, Swaine. You didn't steal anything from Marcassin, did you?"

Swaine had the grace to look insulted. "Steal? From a pretty-boy like him? As if!"

He flipped his pockets inside out for Oliver to take a look: They held nothing but pocket lint. It made Oliver wonder, though: If Swaine didn't steal anything, why had he been looking around Marcassin's apartment?

_Oh, well,_ he thought. _I'm sure Swaine will tell us whenever he's ready._

* * *

**A/N:** So, yeah. The plot thickens. And the romantic bit still isn't freaking over. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there's more to come, but it's all right, because it's only one little section. For the most part, I think I managed to (mostly) restrain myself.


	6. Chapter 6

"This is awful," Esther said glumly. She rocked back and forth on the swing, using her legs to get higher and higher every time, but it was clear that her heart wasn't in it. "We can't even do anything with my father watching us like that!"

Oliver peeked over his shoulder at Rashaad and felt a chill go down his spine. The cold, unwavering gaze he sent their way made him seem like a hawk, getting ready to pounce on its prey. He quickly looked forward again.

"It does suck," Oliver muttered. He watched Esther and tried to imitate her movements to get himself higher, but he couldn't quite get the rhythm. After a few more tries, he gave up and kicked off the ground for momentum. "We've already wasted a month doing nothing, and we've only got another month left before July. My mom's birthday is July 18th, so we'll have one or two weeks to find him – but how are we going to do that?"

Swaine watched them swing back and forth. When they'd invited him to swing with him, he'd scoffed and retorted, "swings are for sissies", then gone and stood next to the pole. "You know, I think we've been looking in the wrong place."

Esther came to a halt, digging her heels into the sand below her. The miniature sand storm that rose up when she stopped made her cough. She looked at Swaine with watery eyes. "What do you mean?"

Oliver came to a halt in the same way, although since he hadn't been as high as her, he didn't raise as much dust. "Yeah, what do you mean, Swaine? I mean, how else are we going to look for Lucien? I can't just go ask my mom what his phone number is."

Swaine sighed. "This is why I hate being with little kids."

Before Oliver or Esther could protest, Swaine continued. "What I mean is, your mother left your father, didn't she?"

Oliver nodded. "Uh-huh. What do you mean?"

"I mean, if she left him, she probably moved to a different city so that she wouldn't be near him. We've been wasting our time searching in this city."

"What? You're kidding me!" Esther cried. "So all the time we've spent walking was for nothing?"

"No, it wasn't!" Oliver cut in. "At least we know for sure that those people aren't my dad!"

"We would've still known if we'd come up with idea sooner," Swaine grumbled. Esther kicked him as hard as she could, sending herself into a spinning frenzy.

"It's not his fault!" she shouted. "Oliver was doing his best – don't blame him!"

"When did I _say_ I was?" Swaine clutched his leg and grimaced. Even on a swing, Esther packed a punch.

"It doesn't matter."

Esther and Swaine paused and turned to Oliver. "What do you mean?" she asked quizzically.

Oliver looked down and mumbled, "My mom never tells me about her past."

"Well, why not?" Swaine demanded. "Have you ever tried asking her about her childhood?"

"She only says things like 'I was raised with all the other Wise Men' and 'I met Lucien during college," Oliver said. "She never gives me exact locations. I don't think she wants me to know."

"Well, we'll just ask my father, then."

Before Oliver could stop her, Esther got up and walked over to Rashaad. "Father," she said, "where did you and the other Wise Men go to school?"

Rashaad gave her a suspicious glare. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because Swaine's curious." She turned and waved them over. "We told Swaine about the story of the Four Wise Men, and he asked where you went to school, to find out whether you guys were really that great."

Rashaad glared at Swaine. "Oh, really? What do you mean by that?"

Esther elbowed Swaine and glared at him. He sighed and played along.

"Well, if you guys went to high-class colleges and universities, then obviously, you must be amazing – but if you went to your local colleges, you can't be all that good, can you?"

Swaine's false cockiness seemed to set off a spark. "We all went to the top universities in our field!" Rashaad snapped. "I went to the Orange Strings College in Ressin, Khulan went to Victory university for her medical degree, Alicia went to Guard Fields and Hamelin was at LUV. All of us were on full scholarship, too! You'd know how difficult it is to get a full scholarship if you'd attended a post-graduate school."

Swaine smirked. "What, full scholarship? Tuition only? That's nothing – even _I_ know that!"

"Ha! Tuition only? As if – we lived on campus, with our tuition, textbooks, dorms and meal plans entirely paid for. The only times we ever spent a penny were when we went off-campus for group vacations."

Oliver felt a sharp elbow jab him in the side. Ester glared at him. He stared back, confused. What did she want him to do?

She turned back to Rashaad. "Father, I think you're boring him. Swaine doesn't care about things like that – he's uncultured swine, just like his name."

Ah-ha! Oliver finally got it. "Come on, you two. Don't fight. We hardly get any time together, anyway. How about we go on the monkey bars?"

"Do you think I'll fit on those puny things?" Swaine exclaimed, but he followed Esther and Oliver anyway.

Once they were out of Rashaad's earshot, Esther grabbed Oliver's arm. "See, Oliver? I told you it'd be fine! With this, finding your father will be a piece of cake!"

Swaine laughed. "As if. Keep imagining things, princess, and someday, maybe they'll come true."

She put a hand on her hip and glared at him. "What do you mean by that?"

"Have you got any idea how far away Guard Fields is? It's an hour's drive away – if we take public transit, it'll probably take us twice as much time. And then we still have to search every Johnson household, and believe me, there will be twice as many Johnsons in a place like that than in this tiny city."

She stomped her foot. "Well, what do _you_ suggest, then?"

"I'm pretty sure Lucien had a brother. If we can just figure out his name, then it'll make it a lot easier to search all the houses there. We could call them, maybe, since there would be fewer people, anyway."

"That would be really helpful!" Oliver exclaimed. "So, do you know his brother's name?"

Swaine looked away and scratched the back of his head. "Well… Not exactly."

Esther rolled her eyes. "Fat lot of good _that _did us."

"But I _do_ remember that his name was similar to Rashaad's." Swaine tapped his chin, thinking hard. "I think… Yes, I'm pretty sure Lucien's brother's name was an approximate anagram of Rashaad's."

"An anagram?" Oliver asked. "What's an anagram?"

Esther and Swaine answered at the same time.

"It's when you rearrange the letters of a word to form another one."

"Anagrams are words with the same letters, but in a different order."

They glared at each other. "_I_ answered him first," Esther snapped. "How rude of you to interrupt!"

"As if!" scoffed Swaine. "He asked me, didn't he?"

"Actually, I was asking both of you," Oliver said nervously. These days, it seemed like just the slightest spark could spark a full-out battle between these two. He didn't get why – it'd started when Marcassin took them over to his apartment. Had something happened between them then? "Either way, we've still got to find out what his name is."

Esther sighed. "Well, we might as well get started, then, I guess."

(O.o) ( -_-)

"Aradash?"

"That sounds so girly," Swaine muttered.

"Well, excuse me, but I _am_ a girl, you know!"

"How about Ashaard?"

Swaine muttered it under his breath. "It still doesn't sound right. Try names that start with 'sh'."

"Shaarad?"

"Shaaard?"

"Shraaad?"

"Shadara?"

"That's it!" Swaine exclaimed. "Shadar! His name was Shadar!"

"Whose name was Shadar?"

Oliver jumped in surprise and almost fell off the monkey bars. Esther managed to grab him and pull him back in time.

"Father!" she cried. "You startled us!"

"I'm sorry." He held his arms up and caught Esther as she jumped down. Oliver and Shadar followed suit; Rashaad ignored them.

"So, whose name was Shadar?"

Esther quickly stammered, "Um… Swaine was just telling us a story about when he was little! Weren't you, Swaine?"

"Of course! Shadar was quite the little devil, I remember. We were in the same class for most of elementary school, and he'd always play tricks on the teachers and even the students, too, sometimes. In fact, there was this one time when he stuck a thumbtack on my chair. I noticed it, of course, but I had to retaliate, otherwise he would've done it again. So I…"

Rashaad held up a hand. "All right, that's enough. I don't want to hear any more." He grabbed Esther and Oliver's hands. "I have to take you two home now."

"All right. See you, Swaine!" Oliver called. Swaine waved until they were out of sight.

/( ^o^)/~~~

"How are we going to do this?"

Esther, Swaine, and Oliver mulled over a map that Oliver had smuggled out of his house. Khulan and Kublai were in their kitchen, and the three of them sat in the living room. Strangely enough, Kublai had taken a liking to Swaine, even inviting him over for some beer later on. Swaine had refused, of course – Esther had threatened him with her eyes to not accept.

"I have no idea." Oliver sighed. "Even though we're calling them, we still need to find some time to call without our parents being suspicious."

"Plus, their phone bills are going to go _way_ up," Esther added. She propped her chin on the back of her hand and stared at the map. "If we take the bus, then it'll take one and a half hours to get there. That means we'd need at least four hours away from any of our parents. Since we don't have that kind of time, we need to find a phone book from there."

"I could take care of that if you'd only give me some money to buy bus tickets," Swaine commented, carefully avoiding Esther's eyes.

"As if we'd do that!" she hissed. "You'd only steal the money and make off with it!"

"Hey, what's that sign right next to Guard Fields?" Oliver asked, pointing at a little clown face that was right on top of the label "GUARD FIELDS" on the map. Esther ran a finger down the legend, searching for the sign.

"It's an amusement park."

Oliver looked up at them. "We could just ask our parents to take us there and grab a phone book when we go."

They both stared at him, wide-eyed.

Swaine slapped him on the back, and Oliver nearly fell over from the force of the blow.

"You know, for an eight-year-old, you're pretty darn smart," Swaine commented with a grin.

"I'm _nine_!" Oliver retorted.

Esther giggled. "Wow, good thinking, Oliver! I never thought of that!"

"So, does anyone want any fruit?" Khulan called from the kitchen. "I've got some apples, some oranges-"

Esther smiled. "I want some bananas!"

They could hear Khulan laugh from inside the kitchen. "Of course you do, Esther. Coming right up!"

Swaine gave her a funny look. "Bananas?"

"Her father's specialty is cooking bananas," Oliver explained.

"Still… Bananas?"

"Shut up!" she said haughtily as Khulan came in with a tray of apples, bananas, and tangerines. "Bananas are delicious!"

Swaine smirked. As he watched her begin to devour the bananas, bunch by bunch, he muttered, "Well, at least some things haven't changed."

"What do you mean by that, Swaine?" Oliver asked. Swaine shook his head.

"Nothing you need to worry about."

* * *

**A/N:** To explain the university names, basically, I'd used Cordon Bleu, Harvard, Juilliard and MIT at first, but I felt bad about using schools in the US, since I live in Canada (and I want to make this as location-neutral as possible), so I twisted the names a bit. Cordon Bleu sounds like Blue Cord, so I changed it to orange, the opposite colour of blue, and string. Harvard sounds like a guy's name, so I chose another male name – Victor – and turned it to Victory. I used to go to a school called Julliard, so I played around with my current school's name (not saying it in case a stalker's reading my story) and came up with Guard Fields. MIT – mit – mitten – glove – LUV because "glo" doesn't sound like anything.

Also, this is olden-days settings, kinda like Motorville. They've got cars and phones and sucky, expensive computers, which explains why the secretary had one and the families don't.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Aaand it's near the climax! Yippee!

Yeah, that's all I have to say.

* * *

"Hey, Mom, can we go to an amusement park this weekend?"

Alicia stirred the pot of soup and, without looking up, asked, "Why do you want to go, sweetie?"

This time, Oliver had an answer ready. Esther and Swaine had coached him a few days ago on exactly what to say. "I heard a couple kids from class talking about it, and it sounded really fun. Can we go with Esther?"

Alicia spooned up a little soup and tasted it. She grimaced and grabbed the salt shaker, dumping in half its contents. "Do you want to invite your friend, Swaine, as well? You three have been spending an awful lot of time together. You're not planning another escape, are you?"

Even though her voice was teasing, the words stung him. "Of… Of course not, Mom! What would make you think that?"

"Just wondering."

She picked up a platter of roast beef and mashed potatoes and slid it over to him. "Here; try some. It's a new recipe Rashaad gave me."

Oliver picked up his fork and tried the potatoes. They tasted just like they always did – Alicia had no talent for cooking.

"So, can we go?"

"It depends on where the park is."

Alicia tried the soup against. Satisfied with the taste, she ladled out a bowl for herself and another smaller portion for Oliver.

"It's an hour's drive north of here. I think it's near a place called Guard Fields?"

The only sign of recognition he saw was her knuckles tightening on the two bowls. She put one in front of him and sat down with hers. "If it's alright with Rashaad, I'd be happy to go. Is Swaine coming with us?"

Oliver shook his head and stabbed a piece of meat with his fork. "He says that if he's around with Esther, he'll just ruin our day."

Alicia smiled knowingly. "There's truth in those words of his." She sighed. "Ah, youth! Not that he's young, but he's still young enough – young enough to be completely naïve."

Oliver looked up at Alicia. "Huh? Mom, what're you talking about?"

"Oh, it's nothing." She grinned and ruffled her hair. "You'll learn about it sooner or later, but for now, I think you're just a tad bit too young."

Whatever Alicia was saying, Oliver didn't get it. Instead of confusing himself even more about it, he asked, "So, we can go?"

"Of course, sweetie, as long as Esther gets Rashaad's permission."

\(^o^)/

(**Random mid-story ****A/N:** Since I've never been to any other amusement park, the one they go to is basically ripped off of Canada's Wonderland. I hope you don't mind, whoever owns it!)

"Whee!"

Oliver and Esther ran into the park, each armed with a map they'd picked up near the entrance. Before them lay a beautiful fountain, with a towering waterfall at the far end. Quaint little shops and restaurants surrounded it, and four pathways wove through them, leading to more wonders to come.

"I knew it!" Esther squealed. "I _told_ you so, Father. They _do_ have a pool!"

"Now, now, calm down," Alicia laughed. "We've got all day to enjoy ourselves. No need to get in such a rush."

Oliver stared down at the map in his hands. Even though they'd only suggested coming here to their parents so that they'd get their hands on a local phone book, he couldn't help but feel excited to play in the amusement park. It was huge – way bigger than any traveling circus or annual fair they had back home! Plus, they had water slides, and _two_ pools – a large one, and a smaller one he guessed was for little kids.

A symbol caught his eye on the map. He looked at the legend: There were phone booths right next to the large pool. He nudged Esther and showed her, and she nodded.

"Let's go to the pool later!" Esther said. "Oliver, did you and your mother bring your swimsuits?"

He nodded. "Uh-huh, we sure did."

"Let's go to the merry-go-round first!"

And off they went, ready for a day of pure fun and games.

\(*^0^*)/

"Ah, this is heaven," Esther sighed.

She folded her hands behind her head contently, eyes invisible behind her dark purple sunglasses, lounging on – what else? – a lounger. Her father was reading a book he'd brought him by her side, while Alicia and Oliver were right next to them.

"Hey, Mom, I'm going to the bathroom, okay?" he said suddenly. Alicia smiled.

"Of course, Oliver. Be back soon, would you?"

"I will!"

He got up and ran toward the washrooms, but as soon as he was out of Alicia's view, he made a sharp turn and ran towards the phone booths. They all had phone books in them, that was clear enough.

Now, he just needed to make sure they were the right ones.

He stepped into a booth quickly, although he could've taken his time – no one was in line for the phones. He picked up the phone book and smiled in relief: _Guard Fields_ was written across the cover in big, bolded letters.

He opened it up and began to flip through the pages.

Sure enough, there were even more Johnsons in this book than in the other book. Only a fraction of their first initials were L or S, though, which made it a lot easier.

Oliver selected the first page with L and S Johnsons and began to carefully tear it out.

"Hey! Kid! What're you doing?"

Oliver looked up and jumped when he saw a lifeguard tapping on the glass in front of his face. He put the phone book down and went out.

"Yes? What is it?"

The lifeguard pointed at the phone book. "You're not allowed to rip out any pages. That's vandalism."

Oliver gulped. "I-I'm very sorry, sir…"

The lifeguard laughed. "Sir? Man, kids these days sure have manners! It's all right, just don't do it again. Why were you ripping out those pages, anyways?"

"I'm trying to find my mom's boyfriend for her birthday."

The lifeguard blinked. "Wait – what? Repeat that. I don't think I heard you correctly."

Oliver said, slowly and clearly, "I'm looking for my dad because my mom misses him, and I'm going to bring him to her for her birthday."

The man stared at Oliver for a while. Then he began to chuckle.

"What?" Oliver demanded, slightly cross. "It's true! It's going to be the best birthday gift ever!"

"I don't doubt that, kid." The lifeguard grinned and dug through his pockets. "Here, take these. You can write down the phone numbers and addresses on this."

Oliver took the pad of paper and pen and quickly went back into the phone booth, scribbling down all the numbers and addresses as quickly as he could. When he was done, he ripped off the top few sheets of paper and returned the pen and pad to the lifeguard.

"Good luck with your mission, kid," the lifeguard called as Oliver ran away. "You're going to need it!"

"Thanks, Mister!" Oliver shouted back.

He ran back to Alicia with the crumpled up paper concealed in a fist. "You're back," Alicia commented as he climbed onto his lounger. "What took you so long?"

"There was a line." Oliver leaned over, out of his mother's line of vision, and tucked the papers into the pocket of his shorts. "I think some people didn't know there was a changing room."

"Oliver, let's go to the water slides together!"

Esther ran over and pulled him up. "So, how'd it go?" she whispered.

"I've got them all," he whispered back.

She smiled. "Perfect."

（￣ー￣）

"So, did you kids have fun at the playground?"

"It was an amusement park," Esther retorted, "and yes, it was a lot of fun."

Swaine smirked and crossed his arms. "So, how's elementary school?"

"_Fine,_ thank you." She turned to Oliver. "You brought the papers, right?"

He nodded and dug out the pages from his pocket. "They're right here – the phone numbers and addresses of every L and S Johnson in Guard Fields."

It was a surprisingly small list. There were only sixty or so names on the papers, which Oliver distributed to himself, Esther, and Swaine.

"So, how are we going to call all these people?" Esther asked as she smoothed out the two pages she had. The writing was still legible, but only just. "I mean, we could call them from payphones, but that would be difficult to do without our parents noticing, and it would cost a lot, too. If we use their phones, though, they'll definitely notice."

"It's already the middle of June, though," Oliver said. "Even if they do notice, my mom's birthday will pretty much be right after they notice. It won't really matter then."

"I guess you're right." Esther sighed. "Who's doing the calling, then?"

None of them volunteered.

"Right," Swaine finally said. "How about this? We each call the people on the lists. You two can do it when you're home, and I'll just do it whenever I visit one of your houses. Is that fair?"

"That's good enough, I guess." Oliver sighed. "You might as well get started now."

Esther turned and called, "Marcassin! Can we use your-"

Swaine jumped forward and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Not _his_!" he hissed. "That's just rude!"

Esther glared at him until he moved his hand away. "And how, exactly, is using _his_ phone any more rude than using someone else's?" she demanded.

"He's in _high school!_"

Esther crossed her arms. "So?"

Oliver blinked. "Oh, I see what you mean, Swaine. All right, you can do it next time."

If she'd been standing, Esther would've stomped. "What does he mean, Oliver? Explain it to me, please!"

"Well, Marcassin's just in high school, and he's living on his own," Oliver explained. "So if we use his phone, it'll be harder for him to pay it off than for one of the older Wise Men."

"Can't believe an _eight-year-old_ got it before you," Swaine sniggered. Esther glared at him.

"I'm _nine_," Oliver half-heartedly protested.

Marcassin opened his bedroom door. "Hm? Did you three need anything?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing." Esther smiled at him. "Marcassin, aren't you supposed to be making sure we don't do anything funny?"

"I trust you to stay right here."

Marcassin winked and shut the door. Esther stared at the closed door in slight shock.

"Did… Does he mean…?"

Oliver shared a puzzled look with her. "Does he mean it?"

Swaine grinned and got up. "Well, why don't we test it out? Where to?"

Oliver piped up, "The park with the red slide!"

"Where else?" Esther pushed him aside and made for the door. "Marcassin, we're going to the park with the giant red slide, okay?"

His voice was slightly muffled by the door when he replied. "Your parents will be here in two hours."

"Yippee!" Oliver cried. "Let's go!"

(O.O) (^o^)

"I've got forty cents." Oliver showed them his meager handful of coins. "You, Esther?"

She shook her head, and Oliver sighed. "Well, I guess we can't start yet."

As they walked toward the park, a woman walked past them. Swaine half-turned to let her by, but the sidewalk was too narrow for four people, so he accidentally bumped her. "Sorry," he muttered. She threw him a nasty look and walked away.

"I've got some cash," he announced. "How much do we need to make a phone call?"

"Fifty cents." Oliver watched as Swaine paused on the sidewalk and rifled through his pocket.

"Hmm…let's see – whoops!"

A bunch of change tumbled out of his pocket, along with a leather wallet, a few bills, and a key chain with a ton of rings attached.

Swaine froze. Oliver crouched down and picked up the wallet.

"There's a driver's license inside for a… A 'Mary Stansfield'." Oliver looked to Esther. "She looks an awful lot like the lady who just passed us."

"Okay, before you start yelling and calling me a thief and telling me to go give it back to her," Swaine quickly said, holding his hands up in defense, "first of all, she deserved it, okay? She's a horrible, evil woman who deserves misery."

Esther pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. "Oh, yeah? How do you know?"

"Didn't you see the way she treated me just now? Just for bumping into her – I even apologized!"

Oliver frowned. "Stealing is wrong, though, Swaine – I thought you stopped!"

Swaine snorted and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hah – as if! Unlike you lot, I haven't exactly got a nice, comfy house to go home to every night, or parents to give me three meals a day." His face hardened. "Well, I don't anymore, at least."

"Even if you haven't got parents, stealing is wrong!" Esther shouted.

Swaine gave her a cold look that made her shiver. "And I suppose _you_ would know, little princess," he mused. "After all, your mum's dead, isn't she?" He paused. "Oh, wait! No! She left you and your dad. But it's all the same, isn't it, in the end?"

A loud, resonating _crack_ prevented him from continuing.

Esther bit her lip hard and rubbed her eyes with her red hand. Swaine didn't move a hand to his cheek, already turning bright red from her slap.

"Come on, Oliver," she muttered, turning and walking away. "We're leaving him."

"But-"

"Come _on!_" she yelled.

He went.

Swaine watched them go with a somewhat maniac smile on his face. "You might want to take the cash with you, kids," he called after them. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to find Lucien with it."

"Keep it!" Esther shouted back. She didn't turn around. "Who knows when you'll next see some?"

* * *

**A/N: **And so…they parted ways. But not forever! Man, I feel like I'm turning this into a total drama…-.- That's what happens when you write a fanfic about a game like this. No offense, Studio Ghibli/Level Five, but the characters – esp. characters like Lucien – don't have enough of a personality for a fanfic author to work with…

And also, if the food scene is unrealistic, I am very very sorry. At home, we eat Chinese each day, every day, so I don't know how normal people eat, because I've only ever eaten the non-Chinese way at restaurants - and that still doesn't count because we always just order one or two large dishes and share it together. So, yeah. I did my best. Just saying.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Oh, jeez. And the random romance begins again.

* * *

"Esther, shouldn't we get Swaine to come back?"

"If he wants to come back, he's going to have to apologize!" She folded her arms and stuck her chin up. "I'm ready to wait."

"Like father, like daughter," Marcassin commented. He flipped over a card for himself. "All right – stand by. Oliver?"

"I'm good, thanks," he said. "But, Esther, you insulted him first, didn't you?"

Esther narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not using the same lines that you use on my _father_ on _me,_ are you?"

"Huh? No, I'm not!" Oliver thought back to the last time he'd had to convince Rashaad to forgive Kublai and sighed. "Actually, I guess I am…"

"Just like I said." Marcassin flipped over his cards. "Like father, like daughter. Twenty-one!"

Oliver glumly flipped over his cards. "Nineteen."

"And Esther busted."

She scowled. "It's not _my_ fault the cards are rigged."

"Esther, you should just-"

"_He's _going to have to apologize _first._"

Oliver sighed. "Fine, then. What about the num- The things we gave him?" he amended. Marcassin raised his eyebrows – he hadn't missed that near-slip.

"He'll come back and get to work on them – _after_ he apologizes."

Oliver sighed. Marcassin was right – like father, like daughter. "Look, he's probably forgotten about it by now. Why don't we just go back and make up with him? I'm sure he's lonely, too, without us. He probably misses us a lot."

Esther shook her head. "No! That stuff may work on my father, but it won't work on me!"

Okay, not quite like-father-like-daughter. Oliver sat back, at a loss for what to say, when Marcassin piped up.

"Whatever Swaine said, Esther, I'm sure he regrets it a lot. After all, think about it – you two are the only links he has to any food and shelter, and you're probably the closest things he has to friends. Even though he treats you like little kids – well, you _are_ little kids, compared to him, so he has the right to do that – but even though he treats you like that, it's only because he likes you so much."

Esther slumped against the back of the couch. "Do you really think so?"

Marcassin patted her hand and smiled at her. "If he's anything like I think he is, I know so."

ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ ┻━┻

"Swaine's – not – _here!_"

Esther stomped and glared around. "He's – not – _here!_ Why isn't he here? It's Wednesday! School is over! So he – should – be – here!"

"I think he thought that you wouldn't want to see him," Oliver managed. It was scary to watch Esther when she was furious. "We'll just wait and see if he shows up."

He didn't.

Esther and Oliver sat on a bench, waiting for Swaine. After a few minutes, Marcassin wandered off. The two kids didn't notice.

Marcassin walked over to a tree at the very far edges of the park and leaned against it. Then, very quietly, he said, "They're waiting, you know."

"I know," Swaine replied.

"So why aren't you going?"

"She _slapped _me." Swaine's voice was incredulous. "I'm not going back until I get a formal apology."

Marcassin coughed into his fist to force down his laughter. "Did you know she said the same thing?"

Swaine remained silent.

Marcassin risked a slight fib. "She wanted to apologize, you know."

He heard Swaine shift on the grass. "Did she, really?"

"Yes, she did."

"Liar."

There it was again – that swift, familiar frankness. Where did he know that from?

"Well, she would've, if you hadn't kept her waiting. Oliver's been doing a shockingly good job of keeping her mostly calm."

"I'm surprised he hasn't collapsed under pressure yet."

Marcassin laughed. "He's not _that_ young and immature."

Swaine sighed. "Don't you think I know that? He's bloody – he bloody came up with the idea for them to skip school, of _course_ he's not immature!"

Marcassin filed away that tidbit of information for later. Alicia wouldn't be happy to know that.

"So, are you going back or not?"

Swaine paused. "Give me a minute to think."

Marcassin straightened and walked away. Knowing Swaine, he'd be over in a few minutes.

_Knowing him? He didn't know Swaine._

Oh, this whole ordeal was confusing him more than he needed to be – _especially_ in the middle of final exams.

(-_-?)

"Remember that time Kublai forgot he'd brought vodka and gave it to us, thinking it was water?"

Esther broke out into peals of laughter. "Of course! How could I forget? I was thirsty that day, so I drank the entire glass! The look on his face when he realized his mistake!"

Oliver grinned. "That was also the day he realized he had a drinking companion, wasn't it?"

Esther smirked. "I almost outdrank him, too – I was only two glasses behind."

"You had a huge hangover the next day, though."

Esther nodded. "I remember feeling like my head was going to split open and yelling at everyone who made even the slightest noise."

"And that time…"

Oliver's voice faded away. "Swaine! You're back!"

Esther blinked. "Swaine?"

She twisted her torso around. Sure enough, Swaine was standing behind her, with the same cocky smile on his face. It was almost as though nothing had happened between them.

"So, you lot didn't even bother waiting for me, is that it?"

Esther managed to say, "Swaine. You're back."

"You have a lot to apologize to me for, you know."

Her face reddened. Oliver grabbed her arm before she could slap Swaine again.

"Esther! Hitting people isn't nice!"

She glowered at Swaine. "Oh, really? I think _you_ have to apologize to _me!_"

He stumbled back with a hand over his heart. "You insult me. Who was the first to insult who?"

Esther raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, _you_ started things by stealing from that poor woman."

Even Oliver had to admit that she had a point. Swaine seemed to realize it, too, and he sighed.

"Fine, then. I'm sorry for insulting you, Esther." Although his words seemed sincere, his tone of voice did not. "Can we make up now?"

She gave him one final disdainful look. "Fine."

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, everything would be back to normal now…

"But we're not going to get anything done if we only meet a few times a week." She tilted her head toward Swaine. "Do you want to come to the Wise Men's meeting this Saturday evening? We're meeting at Kublai's house. He'll have plenty of beer, too, so you can enjoy yourself to your heart's content."

Swaine raised his eyebrows. "You're inviting me to a drinking party?"

Oliver saw Esther fidget, and it dawned on him: This was her mule-headed way of apologizing. "It'll be fun, Swaine!" he said. "Khulan always has lots of food, too, even if it's not as good as Rashaad's. Rashaad will be cooking for our next meeting, at my house. You can come next week, too, if you want."

Esther turned her back on Swaine and grumbled, "Although you'd probably drink yourself to sleep and then crash at our homes."

Swaine blinked. Then he smirked. "I guess I'll just have to take you up on your invitation, then."

"Perfect – you three have made up and all?"

The three of them jumped. When had Marcassin arrived?

"It's way too hot here, even in the shade," Marcassin commented. "Let's go back to my apartment, shall we? I've got an air conditioner there. It'll cool off all your hot heads."

Both Esther and Swaine flushed in shame. Oliver, oblivious, nodded. "All right, let's go!"

m(_ _)m

(**A/N:** I repeat – not promoting alcoholism! Kids, don't try this at home!)

It turned out Swaine was even better at holding his drink than Esther.

"The things you learn to do when you're out on the streets," he told Oliver after chugging his umpteenth bottle of beer. Esther was already passed out cold on the couch, and Kublai had long ago retired to his bedroom. Swaine, on the other hand, barely looked woozy.

He looked around the room. Everyone except for him and Oliver were passed out cold from the beer or snoring from exhaustion.

"I reckon this is a good time to take out those phone numbers," he commented. He got up and brushed cracker crumbs off his jacket. "What do you say, Oliver?"

Esther opened her eyes. "I'm coming, too."

Swaine yelped in surprise. Oliver walked over and helped her up. "You're pretty good at acting now, Esther," he told her. She smiled and mock-curtsied.

"What?" she asked crossly when she saw Swaine's astonished look. "I've been drunk enough times to know exactly how to act like it, okay? Now, come on, the phone's in the kitchen."

She led them to the kitchen. The three of them paused in the doorway.

Khulan was snoring on the kitchen table. One of her hands was on the phone, which had been haphazardly knocked out of its cradle.

"Oh, no," Esther whispered. "We can't call anyone with the phone like that."

Swaine grinned. "Leave it to me. This is where my…ah, _talents_ come in handy."

Oliver and Esther scooted aside to let him pass. Swaine gently lifted up her hand and pulled the phone out from under her hand. She snorted when her hand left the surface of the phone; Oliver and Esther almost had heart attacks. Swaine didn't even flinch. In a matter of seconds, her hand was back on the table, and the phone was safely in his hands.

"Wow. That was amazing, Swaine," Oliver whispered as they scurried back into the living room. Swaine nodded briskly.

"Let's get started with these phone calls, shall we?"

The first house they called was _not_ happy with being woken up in the middle of the night. The moment they heard the angry woman screech into her end of the phone, Swaine hung up.

"Well, that's one down," he said, massaging his ear. "Another, what, twenty to go?"

Oliver counted the number of phone numbers Swaine had. "Twenty-one, actually."

"Lovely. That makes it so much better."

They managed to call eight more people before they grew too tired to continue.

Swaine moved the phone back to the table in the kitchen while Esther and Oliver got comfortable on the rug. When he came back, the two kids were already fast asleep.

He joined them on the ground, and in a few minutes, he, too, was fast asleep.

(_ _)ZzzzzzZ(_ _)

"Oliver. Oliver, sweetie, wake up."

Oliver blinked and squinted at Alicia. "Huh? Mom? What's going on?"

Alicia smiled. "It's Sunday morning, sweetie. Rashaad made breakfast."

He sat up and blearily rubbed his eyes. "Are Swaine and Esther still here?"

His mother laughed. "If Rashaad is here, don't you think Esther is, too? Swaine's still here as well," she added. "I bet he stayed for the food. Rashaad's food is too good to pass up on."

Oliver stumbled after Alicia into the kitchen. The delicious scent of waffles and honey woke him up.

"You're up, Oliver," Esther said when she noticed him. "My father made strawberry and banana waffles. Do you want some?"

"Sure!" He grabbed a plate and loaded it up with a few waffles. All the chairs were already taken, so he went out into the living room and munched on the waffles as he thought.

Two weeks left until Alicia's birthday. That meant they only had two weeks to call all the numbers Oliver had found – although if all went well, it would only take them a few days – and convince Lucien to come to Alicia's birthday party, wherever it was going to be. It would be difficult, but they could make it.

Oliver finished his waffles and ran to put his plate in the sink. "Hey, Mom, can we go home now?" he asked, running up to Alicia.

"Sure, but…" She knelt down and touched her forehead against his own. "You haven't got a fever, at least."

"Of course I don't," Oliver said. "Why did you think that?"

Alicia stood up. "Well, you've been spending so much time with your friends lately that I thought you'd want to spend more time with them. Why the rush?"

Oliver looked down. "Well… I've got some work that I need to finish really soon."

That was one way of putting it, wasn't it? It wasn't _really_ a lie…

Alicia laughed and hugged him tightly. "That's my boy! You work so hard, Oliver. I'm so proud of you."

Oliver squirmed. "Come on, Mom! Let's go already!"

Esther looked up. "Oliver, are you leaving already?"

"Yeah. I've got some homework to do."

She tilted her head, slightly puzzled. "Homework? What kind of homework?"

"A few math questions." How could he tell her without revealing their plan? "My math teacher is obsessed with birthdays. It's weird; she always rants about her husband's birthday parties and gives us birthday-related questions."

Realization dawned on her face. "Oh, _that_ teacher. I suppose I should be doing my homework, too."

Alicia squeezed Oliver's hand as they walked out the door. "You're even influencing Esther to do her work. What happened to you, sweetie? You're so diligent all of a sudden."

Oliver frowned. "Mom, what does 'diligent' mean?"

She chuckled. "Well, you still are in grade two, I suppose. 'Diligent' means… Hard-working, and dedicated to your work."

Oliver didn't think he needed to ask what 'dedicated' meant.

"Anyways, remember, Oliver – if you ever need any help with your work, you can always ask me." She winked at him and added, "I wouldn't be entirely opposed to reading these birthday math questions, either."

(?.?)

Once they got home, Oliver rushed up to his room and waited for the tell-tale sign of clacking keys to make sure Alicia had gone to her room to type. The moment he heard the faint _click-click-click,_ he opened his door as quietly as possible and dashed down the stairs. He ran into the kitchen, grabbed the phone, and pulled out his crumpled list of phone numbers. He dialed the first one and waited, heart pumping with either excitement, nervousness, or from the long dash to the kitchen, as the phone rang – once, twice, then three times. After the fifth ring, someone picked up.

"Hello?"

It was a little girl's voice, but Oliver tried anyway. "Hello, does anyone named Lucien live in this house?"

There was a brief pause. "Lucien? Why are you looking for Lucien?"

"He's my dad. I want to meet him so-"

"Pea!"

Oliver heard a faint voice in the background, then a thumping sound as the girl's mother presumably came down the stairs. "Pea, did you answer the phone without telling me again?"

The little girl – Pea – replied, "But he says he's looking for Lucien!"

There was a strange, muffled noise, and then the woman spoke into the phone. "Hello. Who is this?"

"My name's Oliver, and I'm looking for my dad, Lucien. I wanted him to come to my mom's birthday as a birthday present."

The woman on the other end chuckled. "A birthday present? How creative. Yes, I know Lucien. He doesn't live here, though."

Oliver could feel his heart race. This was it! "Does he have a brother named Shadar?"

He heard her pause. "Well, he could, I suppose. I don't really talk to them very often, although I think Pea has."

She covered the receiver, and he could faintly hear her ask Pea, "Do you know Lucien and Shadar?"

"Mr. Meanie and Mr. Nicie? I do! I like Mr. Nicie! Mr. Meanie's mean, though," she added, slightly sadly. "He yelled at me the last time I went to see Mr. Nicie."

"Um… Could you tell me their address?"

The woman laughed. "Well, they live right across from me. How did you get my phone number, by the way?"

Oliver flushed, even though she couldn't see it. "I found it in a phone book."

He could almost hear the grin in her voice as she teased, "Well, aren't you original and respectful of privacy? I suppose you know my address, then. Lucien lives at number 37."

He looked around for a pen to scribble down a number. "Okay. Thanks, Mrs…"

"Just Cassiopeia. I'd suggest going to his house. From what I hear, Shadar isn't very nice, and I don't think he'd be too happy with getting a stalker-alike phone call from his nephew. You can come over to my house afterward, if you like. I know a certain someone who'd be happy to meet you."

"Pea wants to meet him!" Pea said in the background. "He sounds like a good friend!"

"So, I'll see you soon, Mr…?"

Oliver smiled. "Just Oliver."

* * *

(**A/N:** Yeah. So, basically, halfway through the chapter, I remembered – like, actually realized – that he's only nine. And she's only eleven. So they shouldn't be using super complex words. Whoops.


	9. Chapter 9

"You're kidding me! You found him on your first try?"

Esther _humph_ed and stomped her foot. "So you're telling me that I've wasted my time calling fifteen people yesterday, and that all the humiliation I went through was worthless?"

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Swaine replied. "If it's your job, you do it. Even if you hate it, you've got no choice in the matter, have you?"

Esther glared at him and turned back to Oliver. "Well, Oliver, how are we going to get there? It _is_ an hour's drive away, after all, and we have one more week of school. Then we've got twenty days until your mother's birthday."

Oliver nodded. "My mom's going to be at some meeting this Sunday, so if your dad's busy, Esther, we could get Marcassin to take care of us."

Esther sighed. "I know Marcassin let us go to the park, but do you really think he'd let us go to another city? I mean, it's a lot farther and more dangerous than a park just a few minutes away from our homes."

"He'll do it," Swaine said. "So, Sunday? Are we taking the bus, or is Marcassin driving us?"

Oliver answered, "We'll take the bus," right as Esther replied, "Marcassin can drive us."

There was a brief pause.

"Why can't he drive us?" Esther demanded. "It's not like he'll have to follow us around. He can just drop us off and pick us up. I'm sure he'll be fine with it! Besides, it's faster than the bus!"

"But…" Oliver looked down and fidgeted a little. "He's got exams to study for, doesn't he? Plus, it's an hour away. We can't really ask him to drive us – it's a bit…rude."

Esther plonked her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Are you calling me _rude?_"

He quickly lifted his hands. "N-No! Of course not! I just think the bus would be a better idea, that's all."

"Oliver's right," Swaine said before Esther could protest again. "Marcassin's on his way to university next year. Don't you think we ought to respect that fact and give him some time to himself?" He raised an eyebrow and added, "Unless there's a reason you want him to come with us, that is."

She opened and closed her mouth, like a fish out of water. Finally, she _humph_ed and spun around. "Fine! Be that way – we'll take the bus!"

(`n`)\

"Stay with Marcassin on tomorrow? That's fine with me, sweetie."

Oliver managed to stifle his sigh of relief as Alicia walked over and slid some eggs onto his plate. "You'll be with him all day long. The meeting will take a while. Are Esther and Swaine going too?"

"Uh-huh, they are."

Alicia chuckled. "I should've guessed. Anyway, have fun tomorrow. I don't suppose there's a specific reason for why you want to go to Marcassin's home?"

"Um… Esther likes looking at pictures of Gascon."

It was true, at the very least. Most of the time, whenever they went over to Marcassin's apartment, Esther flipped through photo albums of young Marcassin and Gascon after they'd finished all their planning, up until they were picked up or taken home.

"Don't let her talk about him all day tomorrow. Finish your breakfast, all right, sweetie? I need your help with the laundry later today."

( ^.^) (-.-')

"Marcassin, can we go out?"

Oliver held his breath as he waited for the reply. It didn't take long for Marcassin to say, "Go ahead. When will your parents pick you up?"

Oliver looked over to Esther. She whispered, "My father wants me go to your home and then walk back."

Oliver nodded and turned back in Marcassin's direction. "Around eight."

"Be back before then."

"We will!"

The three of them ran out of the building and to the nearest bus stop. As they waited for the next bus, Esther asked, "So, do we know where we have to go?"

Oliver nodded and pulled a map out of his pocket. "Uh-huh. I took this from my mom. I don't think she'll notice. See? We need to take a bus to Giorgio, and from there, we can take a bus to Guard Fields."

Swaine crossed his arms. "Well, do you know which buses we have to take?"

Oliver's cheeks turned bright red. "Umm… well… I thought we'd just figure that out on the way."

Swaine snorted and smacked himself in the forehead. "See? This is why I hate working with _kids_."

"That's not very nice, you know," Esther declared. She crossed her arms, mirroring Swaine's pose, and glared at him. "You should apologize to Oliver, right now."

Swaine rolled his eyes and robotically said, "I'm very sorry, Oliver, for insulting you. Now, can we hurry up and make a plan for how to get there already? You two _do_ have money, right?"

"Of course we do!" Esther snapped. She rummaged through her purple-and-gold purse and pulled out a crumpled ten dollar bill, along with a handful of coins. "See? I've got it."

Oliver pulled a five dollar bill from one pocket, then a handful of coins from the other. "Me, too. Don't worry, Swaine, we're ready."

He sighed. "I certainly hope so."

Right then, the bus pulled up, and the three of them boarded. Oliver slid his five dollars through the slot and received a handful of change. They walked to the back of the half-filled bus and sat down.

"Give me a look at the map," Swaine snapped. He grabbed the map and ran his finger down its surface. "So we are right…here."

He tapped his finger over a little bolded label, then slid his finger upward. "And we need to go there. I don't suppose you've got another map?"

Oliver shook his head, and Esther leaned over and furiously whispered, "You're not allowed to pickpocket one from someone, either!"

Swaine shrugged. "All right, sorry for asking. Don't get your skirts all twisted in a knot."

He ignored Esther's sputters and looked down at the map, in deep concentration. "Well, it doesn't list the bus routes here or anything, so I suppose we _will_ have to play it by ear."

"Oh, thanks so very much, Mr. Obvious," Esther snapped.

"Don't fight, guys," Oliver pleaded. "We're going to get there soon anyways."

He was right about that, at least. Within half an hour, the three of them had arrived in Giorgio, with absolutely no idea how to get to their final destination.

"Brilliant," Swaine muttered, face in hands, as the bus drove away. "Just… Brilliant. What do you expect us to do now?"

"Ask for directions, obviously," Esther replied. She walked up to a stranger waiting at the bus stop. "Excuse me, but are there any buses that go from here to Guard Fields?"

The woman looked up in surprise. "I'm sorry, little girl, what did you say?"

Esther's smile suddenly became a lot more forced. Oliver jumped in before she could do anything she'd regret.

"We need to know if there are any buses we can take to Guard Fields."

The woman jumped again. "Oh! Another one! Dear me, don't you have a guardian?"

"Yes, I'm watching them."

The woman sniffed and looked Swaine from head to toe. "Well, you'll do, I suppose – even if you_ are_ a bit young and scruffy."

Swaine's slight smile broadened, but not in a good way.

Oliver flushed. "Um… So, Miss, can you help us?"

"Oh, of course, sweetie! Anything for a little _darling_ like you."

She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, smiling broadly. It took all of Oliver's willpower to keep from flinching away. What did she think he was, a kitten?

"So, if you walk down this street and turn left onto Millicen Road…" She paused. "I'm sorry, honey, would you like me to write it down for you?"

"Yes, please," Oliver said eagerly.

_Anything to get away from you!_

The woman dug through her over-sized purse, muttering under her breath, until she finally pulled out an old Walmart receipt and a pen. She scribbled a few lines onto the top sheet, ripped it off, and handed it to Oliver. "There you go now, sugar pie. Stay safe, now."

She leered at Swaine, as though she thought he'd do something horrible to Esther and Oliver, as the three of them walked away.

"'Stay safe now, honey pie,'" Esther mocked. "Who does she think she is, our mother? Honestly! And her purse was so _horrid,_ too. If she was going to get an imitation snake-skin purse, she could've at least gotten a _decent_ imitation snake-skin purse."

"Well, she's gone now, at least," Swaine muttered. "So, Oliver, what do the directions say?"

('. .) ~~\(^o^)

It took them another half-hour to arrive at Guard Fields. With the help of a few more strangers – all of whom were, fortunately, less creepy than the first woman – they arrived at Lucien's house.

"It looks so…small," Esther marveled as she stared at it. Oliver mutely nodded.

It was a modest little bungalow. There was nothing special about it – Oliver had imagined it to be a cozy two-storey house, with a fence and flowerbed in front, just like his. Instead, it was just a plain, white bungalow.

"So, are you going to knock or what?" Swaine said after a few minutes of standing in the middle of the driveway. "We look like proper fools, standing in the middle of a strange neighborhood, where nobody even knows us. Go on. Knock!"

He shoved Oliver, and Oliver stumbled forward. _Well, might as well go now,_ he thought to himself, and began to walk up to the door. He raised the plain metal knocker and rapped it a few times against the door, wincing as he did so – it was shockingly loud.

Esther and Swaine joined him as he waited nervously for someone to answer.

"We shouldn't have done this," Oliver whispered. "We don't even know what we're going to say! This was an awful idea. Let's go back."

"No, we're staying right here." Esther folded her arms across her chest. "Right, Swaine?"

Swaine nodded. "Right. And if we're staying, then so are you."

"But-"

Oliver heard the creak of the doorknob, and turned just in time to see the door open. "Hello? Who's there?"

They stared at each other.

It was the same hair, the same eyes, the same skin tone – even the same face shape.

Lucien. They'd finally found Lucien.

Lucien stared at Oliver. He whispered, "You're…you can't be…"

Oliver opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. Esther jumped in for him.

"This is Oliver, and I'm Esther. You're Lucien, right?"

"Of course he is," Swaine muttered. "Who did you _think_ he was, the older Oliver, traveled back in time?"

She elbowed him. "Now's not the time, Swaine!"

Lucien blinked a few times, then opened the door wider and stepped aside. "I think…the three of you had better come in and explain some things to me."

(O.O) (^-^)

"So you've been searching for me so I can go to Alicia's birthday?"

Oliver nodded. "My mom misses you a lot, you know. I bet she'd be really happy if you showed up there!"

Lucien leaned back in his chair and spun his mug of coffee around. "Are you sure about that? After all, she did leave me…"

"That was all your fault!" Esther cut in. "You're the one who yelled at her, weren't you? All the Wise Men said so!"

"Yeah," Swaine agreed. "Alicia left after a huge fight, and she would've gone back if she thought you wanted it – or so I heard," he added when he noticed Lucien's suspicious look.

Lucien shook his head in bewilderment. "No, we never fought. We fought a few times over little things, but it was never on such a large scale that she'd leave me for it – or _I'd_ leave _her_ over it, for that matter. Are you sure about the story your parents told you?"

"Rashaad and Khulan all hate you now, though." Oliver fiddled with his mug in nearly the same way Lucien was. "Even Marcassin says you deserved it."

Lucien straightened. "Well, I never would've left her if I had the choice. I'll come to her birthday, no problem. Where is it? I assume it's on the eighteenth."

Oliver nodded. "Uh-huh. It's at…um…"

"You haven't even planned a birthday party for her yet!" Esther cried. "Don't tell me you forgot about that."

"He probably did," Swaine muttered. He was right.

"Um…" Oliver scratched the back of his head and laughed. "Well, I'm actually not sure where it is. I'll come back in a few days and tell you, okay?"

Lucien smiled. "Of course. That's perfectly fine with me. Do you want me to drive you home?"

Esther shook her head. "No! If you drive us back, someone might see you and figure out our plan. It's supposed to be a surprise."

Lucien grinned. "I see you're as saucy as ever, Esther."

Esther frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Oliver interrupted. "Well, we were going to visit Pea, anyway, so it's all right."

"Pea? You mean Petunia?"

"You know her?"

"Who _is_ Pea?" Swaine demanded.

"She's the girl who picked up the phone when I called." Oliver pointed in the vague direction of the front door. "She lives across the street with her mom, Cassiopeia. I promised I'd come visit them."

Lucien chuckled and guided them to the front door. "Well, I suppose you'd better be off then, huh?"

"Uh-huh. Thanks – we'll be back!"

Oliver waved goodbye and ran across the street, Esther and Swaine following close behind. He ran up to the door and knocked.

"Yes? Who is it? I'm coming."

"It's me, Oliver," he said. "Remember? I called you, asking about Lucien."

Cassiopeia opened the door. "Of course! I remember you. Pea's in the kitchen, making pie. Would you like to join her?"

"Well…"

Oliver looked over at his friends. Esther nodded; Swaine shrugged. "If we've got enough time, I say we go ahead."

Oliver nodded and turned back to Cassiopeia. "Of course! We'd be happy to join you."

Cassiopeia laughed. "Well, won't Pea be absolutely delighted!"

(*^o^*) (^.^)

"Did you meet Mister Meanie or Mister Nicie?" Pea asked as she kneaded the dough. She dunked a cup into the bag of flour and dumped it all over her batch of dough, then plunged back in, happily kneading away.

"Um…" Oliver squeezed his portion of dough with his hands. "I think I met Mister Nicie. I _hope_ I met Mister Nicie."

Pea beamed and swept a piece of hair away from her eyes, leaving flour streaks all over her cheek. "Yay! I like Mister Nicie!"

"Esther, Swaine, won't you come join us?" Cassiopeia called as she expertly dug into her pile of dough with her knuckles. "We've got plenty of dough to go around."

Swaine grimaced. "Flour makes me sneeze."

"And I don't want to get flour on my clothes," Esther added. "We'll just wait for you three."

Cassiopeia shrugged. "If that's what you want. You can have some of the pie afterward, though."

"How long will it take to make?" Oliver asked. Cassiopeia consulted her watch.

"We should be done by…oh, around six o'clock? I'll drive you three home if you want, once you finish your pie."

Oliver nodded and beamed. "Thanks a bunch, Cassiopeia! You're really nice."

"It's no problem. Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it, she says," Swaine muttered, walking into the living room. "We've got a full two hours to burn, and nothing to do."

"Oh, don't be so glum," Esther scolded. She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs. "You can always just go back on your own, if you want."

He scoffed. "What, walk all the way back? No, thank you. I'd rather wait."

"But you don't have to walk back. You can just take the bus."

Swaine raised an eyebrow. "What, so you're suddenly willing to trust me with money? I thank you for the compliment, princess."

Esther flushed. "No, that's not what- I forgot- I meant-"

He folded his hands behind his head and put his feet up on the coffee table. "Oh, don't get your panties in a twist. I'm perfectly willing to wait."

"Oh!"

She smacked him on the head and stood up. "I'm sure Cassiopeia has an apron she would be willing to lend to me. Have fun spending these two hours by yourself!"

Esther marched back into the kitchen, leaving Swaine to clutch his head and groan on his own.

(`^`) (-.-)

"I'm glad you managed to find your father, Oliver. Good-bye now! Feel free to come over to my house the next time you visit Lucien."

"We will!" Oliver waved good-bye to Pea.

"Be good, Oliver! Don't let Mister Meanie do anything bad to you."

Oliver smiled. "Don't worry, Pea, I won't."

Cassiopeia drove off, and Oliver turned and climbed the stairs to Marcassin's apartment, with Esther and Swaine following close behind.

"Oh, you're back," Marcassin commented when Oliver knocked on the door. "I don't suppose you'll tell me where you went?"

Oliver shook his head and looked down at his feet. "No. I'm sorry."

"No matter." Marcassin herded the three of them into his apartment. "Alicia called a few minutes ago to tell you she was on her way. She wanted to talk to you, but I told her the three of you were in the middle of a serious card game."

"A _card_ game?" Esther stared at him. "Was that the best you could come up with?"

Marcassin held up his hands in self-defense. "Well, I told her you were betting muffins, and that the game required a lot of concentration and memorization. She seemed to believe it. Besides, it's only a week or so until you're not grounded anymore, so it's all fine."

Sure enough, in a few minutes, Alicia appeared to take Oliver home.

"So, how did you do?" she asked Oliver as they waved good-bye to Swaine. "Did you win anything?"

Oliver shook his head, wearing the best shameful mask that he could. "No. Swaine's too good – he won all the muffins."

Alicia stifled a laugh. "Well, I'm glad you had fun. You're only grounded for five more days, and then you're free! Doesn't that make you happy?"

He nodded. "Uh-huh, it sure does."

Esther mirrored his movement. "I'll finally be able to go shopping again, without my father's supervision. It'll be heaven!"

"I know what you mean – I've gone shopping with Rashaad before." Alicia shuddered, but her broad smile ruined the effect. "Not the most pleasant experience ever, is it?"

Esther shook her head. "It's not."

That was all the agreement they needed.

* * *

**A/N:** BWAHAHAHAHA Swaine and Esther are in denial.

Okay, so yes, I hate fluffiness and sappiness, but I still love me some good romance. And that kind of romance, my friends, is what I consider "good romance". Heheheheh they crack me up.


	10. Chapter 10

Six days later – on July 4th, less than a week from the day school had ended – Oliver managed to go to Lucien's house again. It was thanks to Swaine and Esther – mostly Esther, though, to be honest – that he'd managed to come without his mother tagging along.

Just a few hours earlier, Esther had come to his house, with Swaine in tow.

"Hi," she'd said to Alicia. "I was wondering if I could bring Oliver with me around the town. I'm trying to complete a scavenger hunt that one of my classmates told me about, and I'm going to need a lot of help."

"Of course," Alicia had replied. "Where will you be?"

Esther had vaguely waved her hand. "Oh, just around the city. There's a long list of things on the list, so we'll probably have to go all over town."

"Can I see the list?"

She'd vehemently shaken her head. "No! It's not the same when someone else tells you where to find all these things."

"I guess you're right," Alicia had replied. "Here, sweetie. I'll pack you three a lunch. Be back before dinnertime, would you?"

"Okay, Mom!"

It was only _after_ they'd gotten to the bus stop that Swaine revealed they were actually going back to Lucien's house.

"I don't see what you're complaining about," Swaine said when Oliver began to protest. "You're done planning Alicia's birthday, anyway, and besides, you _wanted_ to go to his house again."

"Yeah, but I didn't want to lie to my mom again!" Oliver replied.

"You've already lied to her plenty of times." Esther sighed. "Besides, you need to go to Lucien's house and tell him when to come. Sure, you could just call him, but wouldn't meeting him in person again be so much fun?"

So he boarded the bus with them, and then switched buses, until they were back in Guard Fields, in front of Lucien's house. They walked up to the entrance and Oliver rapped on the door without a second thought.

"Lucien? Are you home?"

They heard a loud thudding as Lucien presumably ran to the door. When the door opened, Oliver smiled.

"Hi! Can we come in?"

Lucien glared at them suspiciously. Oliver stared back.

This…this person _was_ his dad, right? He looked the exact same, but for some reason, Oliver could feel chills go down his spine.

"All right," Lucien replied. He let the three of them in, then shut the door and walked into the living room. Oliver was forced to run after him.

"Mighty rude, isn't he?" Swaine muttered as he watched Oliver run.

"Oh, be quiet," Esther snapped. "Lucien's probably just nervous about meeting Oliver. Come on, let's follow them."

As they walked down the hall, they heard the sound of a shower coming from behind one door, as well as loud country music.

When they caught up to Oliver and Lucien in the living room, Esther said, "Who's the person taking a shower? Your brother, Shadar?"

Lucien nodded. "Yes. He always was a bit of a lazy bum. Sit down, would you?"

Swaine and Esther sat, shooting each other puzzled look. Lucien seemed strangely…tense.

"So." Lucien crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Oliver. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, we've decided when the party will be."

Oliver dug a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Lucien. "I wrote down the time and location on there, but could you come a bit later? I want my mom to-"

"Yes, yes, yes, you want her to be surprised when you tell her, 'Look, mommy, look who I found! Your long-lost boyfriend, who's still _madly_ in love with you!' Am I right, or am I right?"

Oliver sat in shock. Who was this person? Why was he acting like this?

"That's not nice!" Esther shouted. "Oliver worked really hard to find you, you know!"

Lucien sighed and dug into his ear with his pinky. "Be quiet, would you, you little brat? You'll disturb the neighbors."

She stood up and stomped, hard enough to make the table rattle. "Why, you- You insensitive little… Little _rat!_ Why are you being so mean?"

Lucien smirked. "Well, I thought it would be fun to make you believe I still wanted to be with Alicia. I just never thought you'd fall for it, that's all."

She clenched her fists. "Oh! You little…"

"But… I thought you still wanted to be with my mom."

Lucien rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Her? She's so _ordinary._ I've met many women better than her in the past." He noticed the tears welling up in Oliver's eyes and added, "I'm so sorry if I'm hurting your feelings, kid, but it's the sad truth, isn't it?"

He didn't sound the slightest bit sorry. Swaine said as much, too.

"Well, you sure don't_ sound_ sorry," he scoffed. "Take it from someone with experience, would you? Next time you want to lie to someone, at least try to make it _semi -_convincing. And don't even _think_ of lying to kids. Isn't that just a little too cruel?"

Lucien threw his head back and laughed. "_Cruel!_ You think _this_ is cruel? Trust me, beggar-" Swaine stiffened, but otherwise didn't move. "-there are a lot of things that are _far_ more cruel than lying to a brat. Off with you three, now. I'm a busy man, and I don't need three brats with their heads up in the clouds distracting me."

Oliver got up and stumbled toward the door. Swaine shot Lucien one final disgusted look before following Oliver. Esther, on the other hand, stayed a bit longer.

"You're a horrible person, you know that?" she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Nobody would be mean enough to lie to a child like that. You're a horrible man with a heart of coal, and I hope you suffer for the rest of your life!"

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "You're Esther, aren't you? The one who got abandoned by her mother?"

She felt her eyes begin to widen, but Lucien wasn't done. "I feel so sorry for you. What must it feel like, to know that your own _mother,_ who carried your fat bottom in her stomach for nine months, hates you and doesn't even want to spend the slightest bit of time with you? I bet she hates your father, too. You know what? I bet she hated you two since the very beginning, and she only hooked up with your father because he was famous and a good cook. Why else would she endure being with someone like him?"

Esther raised a hand and slapped him across the face, putting all her weight into that one blow. "You're a horrible, _horrible_ man," she said through clenched teeth, "and I hope that you _die._"

She spun around and ran away, wiping tears from her cheeks. She ran past Oliver and Swaine, who were waiting for her in the driveway, and then ran all the way across the street to Cassiopeia's house. She barged in and began to sob.

Cassiopeia poked her head out from the kitchen. "Esther? Are you all right?"

She noticed Swaine and Oliver, still blank-eyed, walk in, and disappeared back into the kitchen. When she came back out, her hair was down, her apron off, and her hands wiped clean. "Are you three all right? What happened?"

"He's a horrible, _horrible_ person!" Esther wailed. "I hate Lucien! I _hate_ him! I hope he'll _die!_"

Cassiopeia sat down next to Esther and rubbed her back. "It's all right, Esther. I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding."

"It wasn't! It wasn't, and I _hate_ him!"

Pea poked her dust-covered head out from the kitchen. "Was Mister Meanie doing bad things to you?"

She padded over and wrapped her floury arms around Esther's head. "It's okay, Pea's here. Pea will make it all better."

"Rashaad was right," Oliver muttered, falling down onto the couch. "Lucien _is_ a horrible person. I should never have tried to find him."

Cassiopeia shook her head. "I'm sure that you're misunderstanding something here. I've met Lucien many times before, and he's always been an absolute angel."

"Well, clearly, he was acting around you," Swaine snapped. "The man _we_ talked to was the type of person who'd burn ants just to watch them struggle in pain."

"What did he say?"

Swaine opened his mouth, but Oliver shook his head. "No. it's okay, Swaine. I'll tell her myself."

(;.;) ( )

Cassiopeia sat. Her hands shook, almost imperceptibly, in her lap. "That…" she whispered, "…is absolutely _horrible._ I'm going to give him a good telling-off as soon as possible."

"And the things he said about my mother!" Esther cried. "He told me – he told me she probably only went out with my father because he was famous, and – and that – and-" She broke down sobbing again, and Cassiopeia held her as she cried.

"It'll be okay," Pea said, patting Esther on the head. "Don't worry, Mister Nicie will talk to Mister Meanie and yell at him for what he's done. Only Mister Meanie is mean; Mister Nicie is very, very nice."

Cassiopeia looked over at Oliver. "I'd better take the three of you home."

Esther sat up, sniffled, and brushed away a tear. "I…" She hiccuped. "I'm fine now. I want to go home."

They followed Cassiopeia to her car. Swaine glared across the street at Lucien's house. "I'll get him later," he growled under his breath.

"Don't," Oliver muttered. "There's no point. He'll just insult you, too."

"Are you okay, Oliver?" Esther murmured. She tilted her head, trying to look at his eyes. She was all right – she had a fairly tough skin, and a temper that she knew meant she'd be getting her revenge. Oliver, on the other hand, was a sweet, naive kid. She needed to make sure he was all right. "Oliver?"

He didn't look up. "I'm fine."

Somehow, she didn't believe him.

(_ _)

"Are you all right, sweetie?"

Alicia watched as Oliver pushed his fried eggs around his plate. "I'm fine," he muttered. "I'm just a bit tired."

Even she could tell he was lying, and her friends had once succeeded in convincing her that bats were descended from wolves. (Long story.) If he didn't want to talk about it with her, though, she wasn't going to force him.

"Esther and Swaine came over last night," she commented. "They said they wanted to continue the scavenger hunt. What do you say?"

Oliver stiffened and pushed his egg so violently is fell off his plate. "I'm full," he announced, standing up. "I'm going to go to my room and sleep a bit more."

Alicia watched him go. Hopefully, he'd be a lot happier when he came back down. "Remember, sweetie," she called as she watched him climb the stairs. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm right here, okay?"

She heard him faintly mutter a reply and slam his door shut.

Oh, dear. Was it hormones, maybe?

(・へ・)

"He's late!" Esther snapped.

Swaine sighed. "He probably wants some time to himself. Leave him. We'll go rip out that son-of-a-bi-"

She glared at him. "Watch your language!"

"Sorry, miss little prissy pants," he muttered under his breath, just low enough that she couldn't hear. Then, louder, he said, "We'll go and tear out that demon's throat on our own. Better?"

She turned around. "Good enough. Let's go."

He stood up and followed her to the bus stop. It was at times like these that Swaine couldn't help but admire the small, eleven-year-old girl. Less than a day ago, she'd been stabbed in her one weak point. Heck, Lucien had shoved a sharp, serrated knife into her weak point, twisted it around a few times, cut it out, jumped on it, and then burned the mangled thing in a bonfire. Here she was, though, standing as if everything was all right. She was even on her way to get her revenge.

_Would he have been able to do that at her age?_

No, he decided. No way. Back when he was eleven, he'd been a spoiled, arrogant brat, who never listened to anything anyone told him and did everything his way. If someone had said those kinds of things to him, he would've completely collapsed. Of course, half a decade on the streets had mostly cured him of that, but still.

"Come on, Swaine!" she snapped. "The bus is here!"

He snapped back to reality and followed her onto the bus. It would only take one hour. One hour to get there, and then give Lucien a taste of his own medicine.

He'd do it for Oliver, and for Esther. The two of them deserved that much, if not more.

(.\/.)

Esther slammed her fist into the door a few times. It took a minute or two for someone to answer.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm not too sure what I've done to make you mad, but I hope-"

Lucien's smile faded. "Esther? Swaine? What are you two doing here? Where's Oliver?"

Esther crossed her arms. "Oh, yes. 'Where's Oliver'. I suppose you wouldn't know that, seeing how you abandoned him ever since he was just a baby."

Lucien stared at her in bewilderment. "What? That wasn't my fault. If I could've, I would've convinced Alicia to-"

Esther exploded.

"What would you have done?" she yelled. "Convinced her to stay with you so that you could continue to verbally, mentally, and emotionally _abuse_ her? Oh, I can see why she'd want to stay with you. If she'd stayed with you, who knows what poor Oliver would've ended up as! He'd be destroyed! If you haven't been able to spend enough time with him when he was young, it's _entirely your fault,_ for being such a horrible person!"

Lucien began to smile. "Oh, is this a prank? You two are very good actors."

"_It's not a prank!_ You are a horrible, _horrible_ person, and you – should – just – go – and – _die!_"

Lucien looked from Esther to Swaine, and then back to Esther again. His smile vanished. "I think you two had better come in and tell me what's going on."

Swaine snorted. "What, so you can yell at us again? I don't think so."

Someone inside the house called, "Lucien, is someone at the door?"

Lucien replied without taking his eyes off Esther. "Yes, there is. Two people, actually."

The door widened, and a Lucien look-alike peered out. "Who are-"

His eyes widened. So did Esther and Swaine's.

Lucien noticed his twin's sudden silence. "Do you know them, Shadar?"

"No, I don't," Shadar quickly replied. "No idea. Send them off, would you? They're disturbing me."

Swaine was slowly shaking head. "Of course," he muttered to himself. "Of _course._ Shadar and Lucien are twins."

Lucien gave him a confused look. "Of course we are. What did you think?"

Esther gaped. "So- so you two- So the one yelling at us yesterday was _Shadar?_"

Shadar began to slowly inch backward. Lucien grabbed his twin's arm.

"The three of you have some explaining to do."

Shadar was about to protest when he saw Lucien's dark face. Then he grimaced.

"Fine, be that way."

Esther followed them, in a slight daze. "Wait…so… He _lied_ to us? Why would he do that?"

Swaine shrugged. "He's about to tell us. Ask him all the questions you want afterward."

(._.?)

Oliver watched Drippy swim around the tank. "Why did Lucien say such horrible things, Drippy?" he mumbled. "Is my dad really that horrible?"

Drippy turned to Oliver and began to violently shake from side to side. Oliver sighed.

"Well, you're just a fish. I guess you don't even know what I'm talking about."

The fish swam up and down in a frenzy. Oliver remained oblivious to its bizarre movement.

"Even if you did, how would you be able to talk to me?"

Drippy swam up to an algae-covered corner of the tank and rubbed his fiery nose against it. The algae smudged, and whatever message he was trying to write was quickly obliterated.

Oliver watched Drippy and sighed. "I guess I should clean your tank, huh."

Drippy swam in circles and shook his head again, then swam all across the aquarium. Oliver watched him swim.

"Drippy, are you okay? Are you hungry?"

Drippy shook back and forth, then paused and nodded. Oliver got out the jar of fish food and sprinkled a few flakes onto the surface of the water. Drippy swam up to the surface, but instead of eating, he began to nudge the flakes with his nose. Soon, he'd formed a vaguely coherent message: BACK.

Oliver smiled as he watched Drippy swim. "You know, Drippy, sometimes I think you really _do_ understand what I'm saying."

Drippy swam back up to the surface and drew another message with the flakes: =7

Oliver frowned. "You know, Drippy, that kind of looks like an arrow. You're a really clever fish, you know that?"

Drippy danced around the tank in a frenzy. Half the flakes had already fallen to the bottom of the tank. Drippy used them to create another message, chasing off Mitey when he tried to eat them.

TWIN.

Oliver stared at it. There were barely enough flakes to form the word, so it just looked like a blob of fish food. "That's pretty, Drippy. You know what? You're a good friend. I just wish my dad was as kind as you."

Drippy smacked his head against the side of the tank and gave up

* * *

**A/N:** Oohhhh. Stuff is starting to get serioussss.

Next is the last chapter, people!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Last chapter!

* * *

"Yes, I was the one you talked to yesterday." Shadar sighed. "Happy now, you spoiled brat?"

Lucien glared at his brother. "Don't speak to them like that. They're good people."

"'They're good people,'" Shadar mocked. He crossed his arms. "I'm sure you'll still call them good people when they con you out of all your money, your house, and your valuables."

"We're not con men!" Esther snapped. Shadar raised an eyebrow.

"All right. Let me guess: You're thieves."

Esther glared at him. "Don't say that! That's mean!"

"But true," Swaine muttered. Esther didn't hear.

"I bet you were the one who drove Alicia off, too. Why would you do something like that? They were in love!"

Shadar scoffed. "Love? There's no such thing as _love._ Love is something that people invented to have an excuse to leech off another person's bank account."

"That's not true!" Esther and Lucien snapped at the same time.

Esther continued, "True love is beautiful, and amazing, and someone like you will never know what it's like!"

"So you're telling me that the love Alicia and I had for each other was an illusion?" Lucien raised an eyebrow. Shadar sighed.

"That's not-"

Lucien cut in. "You know what I think? I think you're just bitter because every girl you've ever gone out with has dumped you, so you're trying to make me miserable, as well."

"I am _not!_ I just don't want you to get dumped by someone like I did. Heartbreak isn't pleasant, you know."

Lucien sighed and buried his face in his hands. "I know, I know, you've told me enough times. I promise you that Alicia won't break my heart."

Shadar sniffed. "No. I don't trust that woman."

"Look, can you just being a spoiled brat and let me be happy for once?" Lucien snapped. "If you don't agree with the way I live my life, feel free to live at someone else's house!" He turned back to Esther and Swaine. "So, where's the party being held?"

Esther blinked. Up to that point, she'd been so focused on their argument, she'd almost forgotten that she was in the room with them. "I… I don't know. Oliver was going to tell you."

"Well, you'd better tell him to come back, then."

Esther nodded.

(O.O)

"So you _did_ meet Mister Meanie that time!"

"Yes, we did, Pea," Swaine grumbled. "Can't you come up with better names than Mister Meanie and Mister Nicie?"

"But Mister Meanie is mean, and Mister Nicie is nice," Pea explained. "I don't like Mister Meanie. Mister Meanie is always bad to people, and he always comes over to talk to Mummy."

Cassiopeia smiled. "Well, it's a relief to know there's a reason behind 'Lucien's' sudden personality change. Would you like me to take the two of you home? I'm guessing you don't want Oliver's father to bring you."

"It would be a great help, thanks," Esther said. "By the way, Cassiopeia, I've been wondering – why are you listed as 'S. Johnson' in the phone book? I don't think your last name is Johnson, and neither your name, nor Pea's, start with an S."

Cassiopeia smiled. "Well, I'm just renting this house. I suppose the landlord's name is S. Johnson, although I really wouldn't know. I've never met him in person before."

"_Never?_"

Cassiopeia nodded. "I used to live in a small apartment with Pea, until somebody sent me a letter with an ad for this house. The rent was so good that I moved in, and I've never regretted it since then."

Ether beamed, and Swaine groaned. "Oh, no. Here we go again…"

"That's so sweet!" Esther gushed. "I bet he fell in love with you from a distance, and felt so bad for you that he bought this house and offered it for rent to you. I wonder who your mysterious benefactor is?"

Cassiopeia chuckled. "Well, I'm not complaining about anything. Are you going home now, or what?"

(^.^)

"Oliver! Oliver, you have to come with us!"

Oliver looked up and blinked at Esther. "Huh? Where are we going?"

Esther sighed and grabbed his arm, pulling him up. "We're going to continue our scavenger hunt. I already asked your mother, and she said it would be fine."

Oliver stiffened and shook his head. "No! I don't want to see him again!"

Esther tugged again, more insistently. "Come _on,_ Oliver! We need to show you something!"

"What?"

She leaned in and whispered, "Shadar is Lucien's identical twin!"

Twin?

"Wait," he said slowly. "So…the one who yelled at my mom..."

"And at us," she added.

"…wasn't my dad, Lucien, but his brother, Shadar?"

She nodded and jumped up and down. "Come _on_, Oliver! You need to tell him when and where Alicia's birthday party is!"

"What's this about my birthday party?"

Esther spun around. "A-Alicia! Swaine doesn't remember exactly when or where your party is, so I was asking Oliver to come with me and beat it into Swaine's thick skull."

Alicia smiled. "Is that what you wanted Oliver for?"

Esther nodded.

"Why didn't Swaine come over with you? Wouldn't it be easier?"

"He's going to show up any minute now."

Alicia nodded. "All right, you three. Have fun with your scavenger hunt."

The moment Alicia disappeared into her office, Esther pulled Oliver upright. "Oliver! Cassiopeia's waiting outside, right now! She's going to take us to Lucien's house so that Shadar can apologize and you can tell your father everything he needs to know!"

Oliver was still digesting the information. "So…my dad doesn't hate me and my mom?"

"He doesn't! Let's _go!_"

Oliver stumbled off, and behind him, Drippy did a strange sort of victory dance. To all those who spoke the language of fish, the meaning was clear:

_I told you so._

○o。.(^.^)

"Happy birthday, Alicia!"

"Happy birthday, Mom!"

Alicia smiled and swept Oliver into a hug. 'Thank you, sweetie. Now, didn't you say you had a birthday gift for me?"

Oliver nodded. "Uh-huh! It'll come any minute now."

Alicia gave him a puzzled smile. "Did you order something over the phone?"

"Nope."

The doorbell rang, and Alicia got up. "Who could that be?"

Oliver, Esther, and Swaine shared a look.

Alicia walked to the front door of Rashaad's house (they'd decided to have the party here, since Rashaad was going to cook) and, out of everyone else's field of vision, opened the door.

All of them could faintly hear a man say, "Hello, Alicia. Did you miss me?"

Oliver strained his ears to hear his mom's whispered reply. "L…Lucien? Is that…"

"Your son – _our_ son – made me come over as his birthday gift to you. Do you like it?"

For a few minutes, Oliver sat, worriedly, as he heard nothing but silence. Esther squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"I'm sure she's just overwhelmed by emotion right now," she whispered to him. "Just you wait. In a minute or two, she's going to-"

"_Lucien!_"

The rest of the Wise Men all looked up. "Lucien?" Rashaad snapped. "Why is _Lucien_ here? I'm going to wring that little…"

"No! It's all right!" Esther cried. She stood up and blocked the exit to the kitchen. "The one that yelled at Alicia was Lucien's twin brother, Shadar! Lucien still loves Alicia. Don't be mad at him."

Khulan blinked. "Lucien had a twin brother?"

"Of course he did!" Esther said. "Didn't any of you know that?"

They all glanced at each other guiltily. That was the only answer Esther needed.

"What kind of people are you, accusing a person without even knowing the full story behind the incident?" she scolded. "Honestly!"

"You should listen to her," Swaine commented. "She may just be a little girl, but she knows what she's talking about."

Esther glared at him, and he held up his hands in defense. "What? It's a compliment!"

Alicia ran back into the kitchen with Lucien in tow. "Oh, Oliver! Thank you so much, sweetie! This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for!"

Oliver tried to smile, even though Alicia was squeezing him so hard he could barely breathe. "I… I'm glad, Mom. Can't…breathe…"

She quickly released him. "How did you do this? And without letting anyone know, either! Oh, Oliver, I'm so proud of you."

"You should be," Lucien said. "He managed to find me and even discover the truth about Shadar all on his own."

Swaine coughed. "Well, not _quite_ on his own…"

"We helped, too! Didn't we, Oliver?" Esther asked him. He nodded.

"Uh-huh. Thanks a bunch, guys."

"Well, party's over, I suppose." Khulan sighed and dumped her gift bag onto the table. "All of our gifts, whatever they are, pale in comparison to yours. Good job, Oliver."

Oliver blushed slightly in embarrassment. "Thanks, Khulan."

Kublai winked, grabbed Rashaad, and dragged him out. "Come now, ye deckswabber. We'd best leave the lovebirds to the business now, ain't it?"

He guffawed with laughter as he left the house, Khulan following close behind. Marcassin stayed right where he was.

"This might not be the best time to say it," he said, "but I just figured something out."

Esther leaned forward eagerly. "What? What is it? Is it about Gascon?"

Marcassin laughed. "Well, that's _one_ way of putting it. Swaine, how exactly _do_ you know so much about us, anyway?"

Swaine leaned back and waved his hand. "Oh, just bits of information I pick up here and there."

Even though he was acting completely casual, his hands were tightly clenched when he dropped them, and his face was grim.

"Really? And how old are you exactly?"

Swaine glared at Marcassin. Oliver and Esther were listening intently. "Why do you want to know?"

"It's just that Gascon would be around nineteen years old now."

Swaine crossed his arms. "Well, what a coincidence. So am I."

"And," Marcassin continued, "Gascon's birthday is in August."

"No, it's not," Swaine snapped. "It's in April."

Marcassin smirked. "And how did you know _that?_"

Esther gasped. "Wait… Are you telling me that _Swaine_ is _Gascon?_"

"When did I ever say that?" Marcassin's eyes twinkled with humour. "It could be true, though, couldn't it?"

Swaine growled and threw his hands up in the air. "All right, fine! I'll admit it! I'm Gascon! Happy now?"

Esther stared at him, wide-eyed. "But…but you two don't…"

Her face reddened. Without warning, she smacked him on his head.

"_Ouch!_" Swaine winced and rubbed the top of his head. "What was _that_ for?"

"Why didn't you just _tell_ us in the _first_ place?" Esther turned away and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, I feel so _embarrassed _now."

"I didn't tell you because I'm not Gascon anymore!" Swaine snapped. "Gascon was a spoiled, arrogant, bratty kid, and after I ran away from home to seek adventure, I changed. I'm Swaine now. All right? That's all there is to it!"

Oliver stared at Swaine. "You're really Gascon?"

Marcassin chuckled. "Still as timid as ever, I see."

"I'm not-!" Swaine sighed. "Look, I'd just appreciate it if you kept this quiet, all right? Who knows what the others would say if I just ran away because life here was boring."

"So _that's_ how you knew!" Esther stabbed his shoulder with her finger. "That how you knew all about us!"

"Esther, it's not that big of a deal," Oliver said, even though he was still slightly pale from shock. "He's not Gascon anymore – he said so himself. He's just Swaine now. Okay?"

She _humph_ed and turned away. "Fine. You're Swaine, and I won't make a big deal out of this anymore."

"Attagirl," Swaine muttered.

One would think that was the end of the day's surprises, but there was still more to come. The doorbell rang one last time.

"Who is it now?" Oliver wondered as he got up and walked to the door. When he opened it up, he was greeted with a startlingly familiar face.

"Esther?"

The girl shook her head and smiled at him. "No, my name's Myrtle. My mother wanted to ask the owner of this house something."

Esther ran up. "Oliver, did you call my name?"

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Myrtle. "Wait… Is that _me?_"

Myrtle stepped forward. "Are you… You're Esther, aren't you?"

Esther took a step back. "How do you know my name?"

"We're sisters. That's what my mother tells me, anyway." Myrtle turned around and called, "Mother! It's all right, you can come out now!"

A woman stepped, hesitantly, through the door, and Esther squealed. "Mother!"

The woman smiled. "Esther! How are you doing?"

Esther threw her arms around her mother's waist and squeezed her tightly. "I'm doing fine! What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to your father."

"He left, but he'll be back soon." Esther jumped up and down. "Are you coming back to him? Will you two finally get married?" She abruptly stopped jumping. "Why did you come back, anyway? Why did you even leave?"

Her mother sighed. "Well, it's a bit of a long story." She knelt down and ruffled Oliver's hair. "Ollie! How are you doing?"

Oliver blushed and looked down. "I'm fine. Thanks, Miss Alice."

"Are your parents upstairs?"

Oliver looked up in surprise. "How did you know they'd gotten back together?"

It was Alice's turn to look surprised. "You mean they broke up?"

Esther elbowed Oliver. "She left before you were even born! There's no way she'd know Alicia left, since she wasn't around when that happened."

Alice winced. "I'm sorry, Esther. I know you're a bit angry and confused-"

Esther stomped her foot. "How would you know that? You weren't even here for most of my life! What gives you the right to suddenly come back?"

Esther wasn't the only one with tears in her eyes. Alice sniffled. "I… I'm so sorry, honey, but I just…" She took in a deep breath and started again. "My parents were very cruel to me as a child, and I was just afraid… I was so afraid that I'd be like them. I'm so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?"

Esther glared at her and turned away. "Talk to my father. Maybe he'll forgive you."

Alice stared at the retreating back of her daughter. Myrtle hugged her mother to comfort her while Oliver chased after Esther.

"Esther, don't be like that. I'm sure your mother didn't want to leave you. She was probably just really scared."

"I know she was," Esther snapped. "It's just… it'll take time for me to trust her again."

And that was that.

The day ended with Oliver, Lucien, and Alicia reunited as a happy family. Swaine's secrets had all been uncovered, and Esther's mother had come back, hopefully to stay.

But the end of the story hasn't yet come.

(^O^)/*\(^.^)

_Six years later…_

"Do you, Alicia Sagess, take Lucien Johnson to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"I do."

"And do you, Lucien Johnson, take Alicia Sagess to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

Oliver stood up and clapped, along with everyone else who'd come – Marcassin, Swaine, Esther, Alice, Myrtle, Khulan, Kublai, Rashaad, and even Shadar, Cassiopeia, and Pea. It had taken five long years for Lucien to work up the courage to propose to Alicia, and another year to plan the wedding, but it had all been worth it in the end. Even from his seat in the audience, Oliver could clearly see the happiness shining in his parents' eyes.

Rashaad and Alice had arrived as each other's dates. It would take a bit longer with them, especially since Alice had left voluntarily, but Oliver just knew they'd have their happily ever after, too. Even Esther had begun to trust her mother again, in spite of the suspicion she'd had for the first few years.

"Is it cake time?" Myrtle shouted into Oliver's ear. He cupped a hand over his ear – the thundering applause and music was too loud to hear over – and she repeated her question. He nodded and shouted back, "Just wait until the applause dies down!"

It only took a matter of minutes, and then everyone went to the long table. Alicia and Lucien cut the cake together and handed out slices to everyone. Once everyone had been served and a piece had been cut for them to share, Alicia dapped icing all over his nose, laughing as he tried, and failed, to wipe it all off.

Rashaad and Alice shared a slice of cake. Rashaad complained, "It's not as good as the ones I make," and Alice giggled, "As good a chef as you may be, you're not a patissier."

Oliver looked around as he munched on his slice of cake. To his surprise, Cassiopeia was sharing with Shadar. _Well, it does make sense, I guess,_ he thought, _especially since Shadar already liked her anyways_.

It had been a year after Oliver's adventure that Cassiopeia had discovered her landlord was Shadar. Who knew? It had certainly been a surprise to him, and _especially_ to Esther. Surprisingly enough, Cassiopeia hadn't been that startled.

"Oh, it's a secret," she'd chuckled when he'd asked her how she was so undisturbed.

Pea was all grown up now – a whole eleven years old. Esther always complained that she'd never been that immature or stubborn when_ she'd_ been eleven, but everyone knew better. Who would've guessed that innocent little Pea would've grown up to be a miniature Esther? Cassiopeia just laughed it off and blamed it on hormones. Esther blamed it on Oliver and Swaine. Everyone else knew that it was because of Esther.

"Oliver!" Pea shouted, waving him over. Her cake was already finished. "Oliver, get me another slice, would you?"

"Sure thing, Pea," Oliver replied.

He made his way through the crowd to get to the cake, and passed Swaine and Esther arguing on his way there.

"No! It's _my_ cake, and don't you dare take it!"

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," Swaine complained, trying to snatch away her plate. She deftly avoided him. "I can't even go for another slice, since that's rude."

"It is _not! _Go get your own – this is _mine!_"

She carelessly put her fork down on her plate to glare at him, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone – along with a huge piece of her cake.

"Swaine! Give it back!"

"No!" he mimicked. "Get your own – this is _mine!_"

Oliver shook his head as he passed them, giving them a wide berth. Esther and Swaine…well, they were quite the mystery duo. Although they'd barely changed, personality-wise, since they'd first met, plenty of other things had. Esther was almost graduated from high school, Swaine had actually entered college alongside his younger brother (Marcassin teased him about it ceaselessly) and was considerably more honest than he'd first been six years ago. Something else had changed, too: They were always together. _Always_. If you wanted to find Swaine, chances were that he was with Esther, and vice-versa. They always claimed it was only because the other person wouldn't leave them alone, but Oliver had his suspicions.

He cut a fat slice of cake for Pea – just the way she liked it – and carried it over to her. She grabbed it from him and dug in.

"Thanks, Oliver! You're the best!"

"Any time, Pea."

Myrtle popped up beside him and gave him a little poke. "Come on, Oliver. Apparently, they're dancing next."

Oliver let himself be dragged along, although really, he wasn't protesting. Myrtle was a bit like Esther – stubborn and girly, but with a _way_ smaller temper. He actually…well, he kind of liked her.

She took his hands in hers and spun them around the dance floor. As they danced, he could see other people out of the corner of his eye: Khulan bent low to the ground in Kublai's arms; Lucien and Alicia, holding each other tenderly; Alice and Rashaad, skipping around; Cassiopeia and Shadar, standing slightly off to the side, talking to each other; and, of course, Esther and Swaine, snapping at each other even as they danced.

"Get someone else to dance with you, princess."

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped. "Everyone else is taken. I don't have much of a choice. Can't you even _pretend_ to be romantic? I'm _miserable_ here. Even Kublai is more romantic than you are! We're only going to dance this once, can't you let me be happy this once and _pretend_ to be a handsome, romantic person?"

"Oh, so you're saying I'm not handsome?"

She slapped him, a lot more lightly than it looked like. "Why, you…"

And, to end it off on a totally sappy note:

They all lived happily ever after.

* * *

**A/N:** Aww. How sweeet.

So, there. That's the end. Thanks for reading, guys, and I hope you liked it. No, really, thanks. A lot.

Cookies for everyone!


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